This Time I'm Not Leaving Without You
by goldflecks
Summary: Ever wondered why despite all the eyesex Jane and Maura don't just admit their feelings and jump into bed together?  There's a backstory you'll never get to see on television.  Rated M for TGTGF, which is a big step up from TGTGT…
1. Chapter 1

**Rizzles man, they kill me...Here's more story fodder for those like me who're going to struggle surviving the series break. **

**Ever wonder why despite all the eyesex Jane and Maura don't just admit their feelings and jump into bed together? There's a backstory you'll never get to see on television. Rated M for TGTGF, which is a big step up from TGTGT…**

**Clearly, I don't own these characters, but I feel okay about that as long as they promise to tease us forever.**

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><p>There was nothing wrong with the police gym, not really. It was free for one thing, as well as big, well-lit and fully equipped. Also on the plus side was its convenient location, housed on the fourth floor of the same building she worked in. Like many other Boston Police Department employees, Jane found it easy enough to wander on up and let off some steam after work, or even during a lunch break if the day was particularly slow. However, that convenience Jane decided, was now precisely the problem.<p>

She loved working out; she always had. She loved the slow burn in her muscles as she ran on just a little harder and faster and lifted weights, each heavier than the last. She'd always been athletic, but as soon as she'd decided she wanted to be a cop, there'd been a new strength of purpose in her commitment to her own physical fitness, which so far had lasted her through all her years as a police officer. And now, quite suddenly, her enjoyment of the gym had been taken away forever by the unexpected sight of Korsak's pale, sweaty ass-crack.

"No." The word had spilled out her mouth the second she'd lifted her head, almost tripping off the treadmill at the view before her. She let herself slide at speed off the back of the machine, barely avoiding a faceplant, before putting her hands on her hips and panting. "No. No, no, nooooo. Oh god, please don't be happening," she prayed skywards. But there it was, Korsak, in tiny gym shorts and a tanktop, grinning like a jack 'o' lantern.

"Doctor's orders, Jane," he shook his head. "I won't pass this year's medical without losing a few inches."

"For christ's sake, Korsak! Put some more clothes on would you? You're not Britney Spears." The older detective shot her a pained glance.

"No way! I overheat when I work out. I need some air around my sweat glands, same as you," he gestured to her own similarly selected workout gear. Jane winced at the mention of any of her ex-partner's glands whatsoever, but as she was racking her brain to find a way to explain exactly why her own attire was so different, a snort came from over by the bench press.

"Detective Rizzoli's sweat glands are nowhere near as offensive as yours old man. They're not anywhere near as painful to look at either, come to think of it."

"Hey!" she snarled. "Keep your eyes on your own glands, Boyd," her glare flickered over at the grinning meathead on the bench, before settling back on Korsak. "Seriously? You're going to go through with this gym business? Is this going to be a regular thing or just a one-off? Please god, be a one-off_._"

"C'mon Jane, what's the problem? It'll be fun. We can talk through cases together, and exercise at the same time. Two birds with one stone."

"Yeah, then afterwards we could go rent some movies and braid each other's hair during sleepovers," she bit back. "What the hell, Korsak? We already spend way too much time together as it is, without you ruining my work-out time as well. My nice, _quiet, _stress-relieving work-out time," she glowered at him in warning.

"Alright, you win," he held up his hands in surrender. "I'll just work out quietly on my own then."

"Great," Jane shrugged and stepped back up onto the treadmill.

"Great!" Vince turned and sat down on the rowing machine in front of her, reaching forward to grip onto the handles and exposing a good four inches of pale, hairy flesh Jane could have happily lived her entire lifetime without viewing. Quickly she ramped up the speed on the treadmill and ran hard, scrunching her eyes closed despite the danger to her life and limbs.

She comforted herself with the belief that Korsak would never stick it out. _No way in hell._ No doubt he'd be back to his doughnut munching ways before she even knew it. And yet, by the third week, she had to admit that the man had more grit than she'd given him credit for. She should have known better; the threat of being limited to life as a desk jockey had clearly rattled him out of his usual torpor. Day in, day out, there he was, blissfully ignoring Jane's eye rolls and crabby asides, either nattering away to her like a breathless fish wife, or exposing her eyeballs to images of his sweaty flesh in action - and if there was one thing Jane Rizzoli did not need right now in her life, it was more fodder for her nightmares.

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><p>And that was how Jane had found herself at a new commercial gym three blocks down…a women's-only gym, at that. Jane had expected to hate it, but it was the closest facility to work and their rates were quite reasonable. After touring the gym with its more than adequate facilities - rather than the pile of lightweight pink dumbbells she'd feared - she'd reflected that at the very least it meant that Korsak couldn't follow her in there. It only took one trial work-out and she was sold. The whole experience was like a breath of fresh air she hadn't even realised she'd needed. <em>No cops<em>. No shop talk, no loud ribald remarks every time she stretched. No sweaty toe fumes in the air, no 'Eye of the Tiger' piped out over the speakers. Between the facility's long opening hours and her currently less than sparkling social calendar, Jane re-engaged with her love of the gym four or five nights a week.

A couple of weeks in she decided that since no one knew her there, then what the hell, why not check out some classes? A split second of poking her head in the door had her instantly convinced that she'd rather Jello-wrestle with Korzak than take part in Zumba, but Spin classes had her hooked. Yoga - well, no thank you, but pilates? That she'd give a shot at least once. And after one particularly long grinding day, topped off with an infuriatingly pointless argument with Dr. Davis - the spineless weasel of a Chief Medical Examiner who made her job a living hell at times - Jane took one look at the gym timetable and picked a boxing class.

The class was small, the room only being set up with around fifteen punching bags, but the music was loud and the instructor brutal. Jane didn't need spurring on, instead taking out her entire day's pent-up ferocity pummelling the shit out of the punching bag, in forceful one-two punches. Having happily adjusted to the freedom of working out without loud, pervy beat cops around, she wore her now standard attire of a black sports bra above her well fitted sweatpants, but within minutes the high energy work-out had sweat gleaming across her shoulders and running down her chest and abs as her body flooded with heat and her veins began to pop out along the length of her arms. When the class finished, she was happily breathless, her frustrations finally beaten into submission. She flicked open her water bottle and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist, before becoming aware of a woman appearing next to her.

She too was flush cheeked and breathless, but unlike Jane, she wore a dazzling smile, and there was no way she'd just worked out as hard as the detective had. Her honey-blonde hair was barely out of place and her skin glowed beautifully instead of gleaming wet like Jane's. "How did you get so skilled at boxing?" she asked in lieu of greeting, her admiration obvious. "I find it so frustrating…I just can't seem to get the rhythm right. I'm probably over-thinking it of course, but then," she smiled again, "that's always been my problem. I was watching you though, trying to imitate your form, and you were so…impressive," her hand came up to her chest, and Jane's eyes naturally followed, causing her to swallow, hard. "You're so instinctive and natural, whereas I'm just…well," she looked skywards and threw a weak-wristed punch in demonstration.

Jane wasn't quite sure how to respond to this unsolicited outburst. The woman standing before her was slight bodied, a little shorter than the detective and her figure infinitely more feminine. It had been a long time since this had happened to her, but she suddenly found herself acutely aware of the curves before her, the rise and fall of the woman's chest, the smooth glow of her skin and the strong hint of flirtation in those hazel eyes. She hedged a little. "You'll get there," she heard herself husking awkwardly. "It just takes practise, you know?"

"Oh, really? How long have you been taking this class? I've only been here a couple of weeks but I'm quite sure I haven't noticed you before." _Did she really just bat her eyelashes at me? _Jane blinked and took a sip of water, willing herself not to choke.

"Uh, well, this is actually the first time I've been," she smiled sheepishly. "I get bored doing the same thing in the gym all the time so I figured I'd check out the classes. This one suited me better than jazzercise." The woman laughed and eyed her appraisingly.

"Your body is incredible," she said simply. It could have just been just girl talk, but it wasn't. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and she reached out to run one finger down the slippery curve of the detective's bicep. Jane's eyes widened and she quickly deflected by reaching down to undo her gloves, flexing her fingers as they were freed. When she looked up, a small smile played at the corner of the blonde's delicate mouth. "I'd _love _to…work out…with you sometime," she breathed softly, and the ambiguity of her phrasing was not lost on Jane. It was artful. This again, could have been straight up girl talk, envying another woman's arms and abs, wanting advice, but it wasn't. She didn't want _Jane's_ body, she _wanted_ Jane's body, and she wasn't entirely sure how the other woman would react to the idea.

Interestingly enough, Jane wasn't exactly sure herself. Okay, yes there'd been a few women before, _occasionally,_ but that was many, many years ago now. Jane wasn't gay, despite the stereotype of the tough female cop, or the annoyingly persistent rumours, for that matter. These days in actual fact, Jane was strictly into men (when she had time that was - which she seldom did) and she'd considered that earlier part of her life very much a passing, experimental phase. A phase that was long, long over. _Wasn't it?_

Jane found herself surprisingly torn. There was no denying that the woman in front of her was startlingly attractive. Nor was it possible to ignore the unmistakable tightening in her chest as she became the intense focus of the most spectacular pair of bedroom eyes she'd seen in a long time, possibly ever, if she was honest. You didn't have to be _gay_ to find yourself quivering under a spell like that, you just had to have a pulse for crying out loud. And as she was well aware by the increasing yammering in her ears, Jane definitely had a pulse.

In the end though, it wasn't just the ridiculously enticing nature of the woman doing the asking that stirred her to answer the way she did. What it really came down to was the fact that goddamnit, she was _bored. _She loved her job - it was the very thing that made her who she was; she loved her family - the mess and noise and constant nagging were the things that kept her sane; she loved her colleagues too - though she'd never admit it to their faces. But there was something undefinable missing in her life, and her recent near escape at the hands of serial killer Charles Hoyt, had made her want to make damn sure there wasn't a single part of life she missed out on, not if she wanted it.

Jane couldn't quite describe exactly what it was she thought was missing in her day-to-day existence, she only knew that work and family and great colleagues just weren't filling it. Neither, for that matter, was the occasional sex she'd been having, or the even more occasional relationships she'd managed to sustain. Both kinds of interactions were always with the same kinds of guys - cops - and the results were always, when it came right down to it, highly routine. Routine like the same work-out every day, or routine like sex was just a part of work, and work inevitably became a part of sex, creeping its way into her bed at unwelcome moments. _Just for once, _she thought, _I'd like to have something different. Something…wild, and private, and mine alone. And besides, _she rationalised, _no one else will ever have to know. _She lifted her chin and locked eyes with the waiting woman, cocking one eyebrow at her.

"Well jeez, at least let me buy you a drink first," her drawl came out as perfectly as if rehearsed, lazily confident and defying the nerves she felt below the surface. The blonde woman blinked, wrinkling her nose cutely at being called out so directly, but her eyes shone back into Jane's without a hint of shyness whatsoever.

"Oh! I would love that, thank you," she smiled, her pleased tone making it sound as though the invitation had been Jane's idea in the first place, rather than the detective's capitulation to the smaller woman's obvious will. She looked at the detective for a beat longer, as if making sure of her attention before turning and walking back across to her own exercise space. It worked; Jane was unable to drag her eyes away. The other woman may have been shorter in stature than she was but the bare legs extending from those little shorts were incredibly shapely. Jane's observant eye deduced the evidence of a perpetual high heel wearer and her stomach clenched oddly at the image. Her eyes ran slowly upwards over a backside that was, _god, perfect actually,_ and the curve of her hips and waist up to her delicate back under her light pink racerback was so smooth and slight, that Jane's fingers twitched at her sides. The woman turned slightly and knelt down to rummage through her bag. Any person who happened to be watching was treated to a tantalisingly brief cleavage shot, and as the woman's eyelashes flickered upwards, Jane was caught out. It was probably not surprising; the heat of her gaze was probably burning the other woman's skin even at that distance. It was obvious from the flash of dark amusement in the blonde woman's eyes that she'd been perfectly aware of the effect she was having. Her phone in hand, she returned and pressed a few buttons before handing it over. She was standing unnecessarily close all of a sudden and Jane fumbled with the keys as she entered her number and handed it back, their fingers brushing.

The woman looked down and murmured "_Jane_," as if testing out the feel of it in her mouth, then pressed 'call'. The detective's phone vibrated from her bag at her feet. "You missed my call," the woman's eyes sparkled. "Please make sure you return it soon."

"Definitely," Jane promised, unable to break her gaze. The woman nodded, smiled, and started to turn away. "Wait," the detective blurted. "Who should I ask for?" she prompted, "when I call?"

"Oh! It's Maura," the woman's eyes flickered over her one last time, and her gaze settled comfortably on the detective's lower abs. Her tongue wetted her lips again and Jane felt herself contract with pleasure. "See you soon," Maura's eyes and voice were heavy with promise. She walked away, gathering her belongings and disappearing out the door, leaving Jane feeling far more winded than the class could be credited for. _Holy fuck…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Yes! Sorry, credit where credit is due: not only are these characters not mine, but 'eyesex' and 'TGTGT' (Totally Gay Totally Gratuitous Touching) are very much copyright Dorothy Snarker from her R&I recaps on AfterEllen. 'TGTGF(ucking)' is what they'll never show you on TNT.**

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><p>The boxing class had been on Thursday. Like an asshole, she didn't call the next day. She knew that women expected it - hell, she knew she did - once you got a woman's number, you made her wait, just long enough to show that you weren't desperate. Or overly available. Or, you know…nice, or into her, or anything weird and creepy like that. But by Saturday lunchtime she caved in to the increasing waves of desire taking over her brain as she imagined just how incredible it could feel, to meld herself into Maura's soft body. She shook her head to calm her nerves and made the call, trying to sound like she propositioned hot women for sex every day of the week. Maura answered on the fifth ring, and before Jane was quite aware of opening her mouth to ask, she found herself with a date confirmed for the following evening. <em>Okay, that's settled then. No backing out now Rizzoli. <em>Slowly she exhaled. Her slight thrill of fear sharpened as the phone in her hand rang again immediately. _Just Korsak_. It wasn't a good weekend to be on call however and the rest of the Saturday and most of Sunday passed by in a blur of a bloodied murder scene, suspect interviews and yet another protracted battle with the grey bearded Dr. Davies.

Jane held herself together, for once mindful of the silver linings in her day. For one thing, it was the Chief M.E's very last day on the job before his successor was due to take over, and for another, she wound up so damned busy she didn't even have time to get nervous before her big date. Hell, in the end she barely managed to squeeze in the time to shower and get changed, having to make do with her last clean shirt and trousers, and a brief attempt to calm her annoyingly abundant hair before she practically ran out the door. She'd meant to be more prepared for this, damnit.

The nerves caught up with her finally, hitting her like a double decker bus to the chest when she walked into the bar and immediately spotted Maura poised and waiting for her on a bar stool. She almost heard the pop as her brain appeared to short circuit on first sight, and for a good twenty seconds, only one thought skittered around on loop: _Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck! _Suffice to say that tonight, Maura was not wearing gym clothes. Her brain slowly stuttered into gear - _Oh my god, those legs! Oh my god, that body! Oh my god, that outfit probably costs more than my car! _The nerves in her chest were offset by the twist of desire in her belly, and on the strength of that alone she propelled herself forward. She moved slowly, attempting to disguise her trepidation with a slight swagger. _Who the hell is this woman? _Jane felt for a moment like a dowdy brown moth drawn towards a dangerously gorgeous golden flame.

Maura turned her head and caught sight of her. Later Jane replayed the image over and over in her head - the moment that the stunning, sophisticated, way out of her league (and clearly way, way out of her tax bracket) woman looked over at her - Jane Rizzoli - all untamed curls and briskly casual outfit, and every visible inch of her flawless skin flushed with pleasure. Suddenly, Jane's swagger took on a life of its own. Leaning in, she greeted the woman with a light kiss hello on her cheek and smirked as Maura's eyes widened slightly, looking up at her with a nervously eager expression flickering over her features. Jane's mouth was dry as she swallowed.

"Can I buy you a drink?" she murmured, her voice deep and scratchy after a long day of interrogations. Maura gazed openly at her, making absolutely no bones about the fact that she clearly liked what she saw. From that moment on, Jane's confidence was real. _Fake it til you make it Rizzoli._

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><p>They chose a corner booth in the swanky, candlelit establishment Maura had picked out for them, and faced each other down over the table.<p>

"Sorry to be late," Jane apologised. "Work got a little out of control." She watched as Maura's fingers toyed rather distractingly with the stem of her wine glass.

"Work on a Sunday?" she queried, one elegant eyebrow quirking. "What kind of work do you do, Jane?" Her focus was so unwavering that Jane had to fight the urge to squirm in her seat.

"I'm - " she opened her mouth and closed it again, coming to a rapid decision. "You know, the thing is, my work is kind of…intense. And, I spend a lot of time - too much time actually - at work, so it usually ends up that most people I date are in the same field," she held Maura's gaze for a beat, before her lip curved gently. "For once I'd like to be on a date and just…not talk about work," she explained. Maura nodded thoughtfully, before her smile dazzled Jane with its warmth. _God, those bedroom eyes again. _This time Jane did squirm.

"That puts us in a rather interesting position," Maura tucked a strand of her hair back from her face, and Jane couldn't help imagining tangling her hands in the impossibly silky locks. "People usually like to talk about work on dates. It's a useful sociological tool to determine one another's relative position within the social, economic and cultural landscape in which we exist in day-to-day life. It allows us to assess each other's values and compatibility." Jane frowned.

"That's not the only way to work that stuff out," she argued. "Besides, all kinds of assumptions can be made about a person based on what they do for a living, and they're often completely wrong."

"Well, I'm glad you feel that way," Maura smiled again. "Most dates of mine would probably prefer to have not known what I do for a living. Some misunderstand me entirely, and others are just disturbed by it. Either way, the results are often far from pleasant," her tone was dry and Jane stared at her.

"I know what you mean. I always figure there are two types I date - outside of my profession that is - one type who're intimidated by my job, and the other type who get off on it. Neither type, are my type," she rolled her eyes. Maura looked intrigued.

"What type do you think I'd be? If you were to tell me, I mean."

"I think, maybe…you might be a whole other type altogether," Jane admitted, smiling crookedly and taking a sip of her beer. Maura looked pleased at that.

"But you still won't tell me," she pressed.

"No," she replied firmly. "But we can talk about your work if you'd like? I'm not easily disturbed, believe me." Maura surveyed her thoughtfully.

"I don't imagine you are, somehow," she mused. "But no, I don't think I'll tell you." Jane frowned at the tables being turned on her. She had an enquiring mind after all.

"C'mon, why not?" she appealed. Maura eyed her over her wine glass and swallowed daintily.

"Because, you'd have me at an unfair disadvantage, Jane," she let that image seep in. "Besides, you did just assert your belief there were other perfectly good ways get to know a person, so let's try some of those shall we?" Her voice was silken and just a shade apart from innocent. Jane tried hard to keep her mind on the game, but she wasn't entirely sure she'd managed to keep the flicker of desire from her face as she flashed through vivid images of all the ways she'd really like to get to know the woman sitting across from her. Maura's gaze wouldn't leave her face, and damnit if there wasn't that same spark of dark humour in her eyes again as she watched Jane struggle.

"Okay," she forced a shrug. "Red Sox," she began, counting off facts on her fingers. "Italian food, especially my mother's. Bruce Springsteen. Two brothers. I drive too fast. I hate dresses. I'm allergic to dogs," she paused, frowning, at a loss as to what to bring up next. Who the fuck _was_ she, outside of being a cop? "Uh, your turn," she stammered, feeling out of her depth. Maura was staring at her again, like she was some kind of museum exhibit.

"Shoes," she began, and Jane laughed. "I _love_ dresses," she beamed, imitating Jane's gesture, touching the tip of one beautifully manicured finger at a time. "French dining. Haute couture. Science. Dead languages. I'm an only child." Jane reached across the table and stopped Maura's fingers mid-count.

"God, we have s_o_ much in common!" She matched her voice mockingly to the other woman's excited tone. Slowly she dragged her fingers back from holding Maura's. They both glanced down at their own hands, smiling at the touch.

"Maybe we don't, objectively speaking," Maura agreed, reaching out to caress the stem of her glass yet again. "But I still feel as though we might find some common ground." Jane bit her lip.

"You don't say?" she murmured. Maura smiled.

"Another drink?"

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><p>Maura had expressed a sudden hankering for a cocktail and they leaned across the table toward each other as they perused the same menu. Unsurprisingly, Maura wound up with some kind of pale pink concoction in a martini glass, whereas the unseasonable coolness of the night outside prompted Jane to order a buttered rum. She gripped onto the warm tumbler for grim life, repressing a shiver each and every time the blonde woman's bottom lip connected with the sugared rim of her glass. Jane wasn't sure where the hell to look. One thing she was certain of, was that whoever she was, Maura did not play fair. With <em>those<em> eyes, _that_ hair, and _that_ throat, was it really necessary to wear a dress that so perfectly showcased _that _cleavage? Jane was just glad the table at least hid the curves of the bare calves above the killer heels she remembered perfectly from her glimpse on the bar stool. In any other case, she'd have assumed that directing her attention purely to the other person's eyes would have been the safest bet, but Maura was definitely not other people. All that silky skin on show, and her eyes were still the sexiest part of her. Jane gave up and let her eyes roam.

It was the details that got to her. Jane would have happily spent her entire life in jeans and a t-shirt, but the longer she studied her, the more oddly fascinated she was with how Maura was put together. The delicate quirky jewellery, the demure earrings, the perfectly matched handbag. Her eye make-up…understated and simple at a distance, time consuming and intricate on closer inspection. _How do women like this know these things, that I don't? _Her eyelashes were thick and curved and Jane found herself startlingly aware of their every downward swoop.

However, despite their differences Maura had been right; they hardly lacked for topics of conversation between them, even though the common ground they'd found so far, was mostly related to their strong interest in each other. Jane found Maura's odd way of talking strangely endearing. She had the most in-depth knowledge about the most varied of subjects, rattling off facts and studies and statistics at such a rate that the detective was convinced she had to be making at least some of them up. No one's brain could store that much information and make it appear that effortless. Could they? After a long day spent with exhausted detectives, the annoyingly reticent M.E, and the deliberately slack-jawed suspect and witnesses from the weekend's murder, Jane found Maura's intense interest in what appeared to be _the entire world_ refreshing.

For Maura's part, she appeared to delight in Jane's directness and her ability to argue concisely through all the facts the other woman threw in her direction, even when she had no idea really about the subject they were talking about. While Maura was clearly an expert at smoke and mirrors, Jane had a highly trained ear when it came to evasion. She'd easily put an end to the other woman's intellectualised debate with a well placed "_Bullshit," _and Maura would laugh in delight every time, sometimes conceding and sometimes arguing her point until Jane grudgingly capitulated.

They sniped and sipped and teased each other, and as evening slipped by, a long series of almost imperceptible shifts had them eventually sitting side-by-side in the curved corner of the booth. Jane was not entirely aware of when precisely this had happened; their bodies just kept behaving like magnets, leaning in to each other, until there they were. Their hands managed to brush almost each time they gestured, until Maura's fingers were toying with Jane's thumb, almost absent-mindedly. It was all Jane could do to steady her breathing, barely able to concentrate on the other woman's words anymore.

She faded in again as Maura was explaining that she'd only been back in Boston for the last month, having moved here for a new job. Her new house, it appeared, was still chaotic with moving boxes, a fact that seemed to be causing her substantial distress. The point that snagged Jane's attention fully through the fog in her brain however, was when Maura let it slip, casually, that the house in question, was just around the corner from the bar.

"Nice area," Jane murmured. "Is it heritage listed as well?" Her voice was teasing, but Maura's response rapidly rid her of what was left of the air in her lungs.

"Would you like to see it?"

Jane barely managed to swallow as she met Maura's eyes.

"I would."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for your lovely reviews and shout-outs. You guys rock, for serious.**

**Disclaimer: Guys? We all love Rizzles, that's why we're here. I adore these characters like woah, and sometimes I just want to pat them on their shiny shiny heads and enjoy their cute bickering whilst imagining them holding hands in the sunshine. But also? As far as I'm concerned when it comes to this duo, fanfiction exists as an almost necessary function TO PREVENT FAN BLUEBALLS. I don't want that to happen to you guys, I love you! But please think about the entire definition of Totally Gay Totally Gratuitous Fucking, and if that's not how you want your Rizzles, then you may want to skip the next couple of chapters, or see your priest about it afterwards. Believe me, I totally get it…some days you read fic and you're like "Yes, yes, enough PORN already!" (And other days, you're like "MORE PORN NOW." And then the other people in the room become uncomfortable at the way you're shouting about porn to your laptop.) Anyway, I wrote this scene a particular way for a reason. There's a deep, thoughtful, meaningful storyline amongst all of this I swear it. **

**The updates are going to slow down a bit over the next few days cos I'm back to work tonight, but I will be back. *Squishes***

**(And also no. I'm not American, sorry. (Which reminds me: Vest/Singlet/Tanktop? Like, under Jane's shirts? I will correct accordingly, this feels important.) I try and get my beer brands correct and say 'sidewalk' instead of 'footpath' but as much as I loves ya, I will not spell like you. ADDING THE UNNECESSARY VOWELS AND OPPOSING THE OVERUSE OF 'Z's UNTIL I DIE)**

**Not mine, not mine, not mine...**

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><p>Standing up side by side, they were roughly the same height, but only due to Maura's insane heels. Jane's mouth wanted to say <em>I don't know how you walk in those things,<em> but her eyes just wanted to enjoy it. As they walked down the darkened sidewalk together, their differences showed themselves again. Jane strode easily in her boots, while the exaggerated clip of Maura's heels made her feel like she was walking with a _lady. _Oddly enough, she kind of liked the feeling, as long as she didn't think about that fact for too long.

Maura hadn't been kidding about her house being just around the corner. Barely two minutes later, she was unlocking her front door, shooting Jane a nervous look and leading them into her house.

"You _just_ moved?" asked Jane incredulously, her eyes taking in the beautiful, immaculate home as Maura moved around the living room, switching on a few low lamps.

"Oh god, it's a mess, I know, I'm sorry," Maura apologised. Jane gaped at her. The furniture was arranged to precision, the book spines carefully aligned along the shelves and the art looked expertly hung.

"You're being serious," the detective realised.

"Ugh, you should see inside the cupboards," she sighed. "I wanted to have everything completed before I started work tomorrow. It makes me feel so out of sorts to be this disorganised."

"Wow. If this is you disorganised, I'm not sure I'd be allowed in here on one of your good days," Jane raised her hands in mock alarm. "Should I be wearing a hair net?" Maura's shoulders relaxed.

"I just like things to be ordered," she defended herself. Jane was pretty sure that her very existence in Maura's house late at on a Sunday night, was testament to the fact that Maura liked having her tight control a little messed up once in a while. She shivered when she realised they'd moved past gazing into straight out staring at each other. Maura cleared her throat, offering her another drink. After ascertaining that Maura was, as suspected, not the type to store budweiser in her refrigerator, Jane accepted a glass of white wine. They sat carefully on the couch together and sipped in silence for a few long moments, before Maura turned towards her with a quiet sigh.

"What?" Jane asked her. Maura's lip quirked.

"Nothing," she replied wryly. "It's just…you make me feel so…knocked off my balance." Jane blinked, unsure if that was a good thing or not. She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure it's not just the messy cupboards doing that to you?" she played for time. Maura tilted her head in reproach, and before taking in an audibly shaky breath.

"No, Jane. It's you. You're just sitting there on my couch, all…cool, like you don't even know…while I seem to be stuck with a _very_ precise memory as to how you looked all sweaty and undressed at the gym the other night. And just…ugh," she shook her head in frustration, biting down on her bottom lip. "The protocol in this situation would tend to suggest that at this stage of the proceedings we should engage in some more small talk, after which I could maybe let you kiss me for a while and then we could decide to do it again sometime, perhaps. Only, in all honesty, my only priority is how to get you sweaty and undressed again," she swallowed. "As soon as possible."

"I see," Jane replied, taking a mouthful of wine and placing the glass back on the table, trying not to let the other woman see the tremor that had started up in her knees. "You're saying you want to box me then." Maura laughed lightly.

"Absolutely, yes," her eyes burned into Jane's, and she socked her lightly in the ribs, once, twice, three times, goading her until she growled under her breath and grabbed her wrist to make her stop, pulling her in until they were kissing. The heat that had been growing between them almost exploded at the contact. It felt miraculous all of a sudden that they'd managed not to rip each other's clothes off in the bar, or even the gym for that matter. Maura's tongue was in her mouth and when she moaned, Jane could feel it. Her hands reached up and held onto Maura's face firmly, while the blonde's hands dropped to her waist, gripping onto her hips, her fingers digging in almost painfully. As the seconds raced by, Jane was so wrapped up in the sensation of the soft mouth against hers that she couldn't honestly have said who moved who, only that Maura was somehow in her lap, straddling her, and _fuck_ she felt good.

When they pulled back, she had to look up to see the other woman's face as she leaned her forehead down against Jane's. Their eyes locked, both women breathing harder than when they'd been in the gym. "Oh, my…" Maura gasped, clutching onto Jane's shoulders, trying to catch herself as they both paused, overwhelmed. Her position provided no help to Jane's fevered brain whatsoever; the neckline of her dress revealed the tops of her breasts perfectly, right in her line of sight. Her gaze scattered, aiming for something, anything less intoxicating, but landed on Maura's thighs, exposed as her dress rode up. _Not helping. _

All at once, Jane felt oddly terrified. It was a strange and discomforting feeling, wanting someone as badly as she wanted Maura right in that heated second. She felt exposed and rattled. A shiver ran through her as the hair on the back of her neck stood up on end. Sex didn't usually affect her this way…she'd always experienced it as more of a release or a kind of caving in to something. Instead, this thing with Maura almost had her bolting up off the couch and running for the door; it was so unexpected and nerve-wracking. It wasn't the mere physical fact that it was another woman, it was more the difference in _style. _When she'd been with men, they'd never gotten to a moment even approaching anything like this one, where they'd been almost on fire even before anything had even happened between them. The men she'd dated had always jumped first, at the very second they sensed they had an in, and stopped to ask questions later, if at all. The build up to this moment had been painfully enjoyable, but now as the tremor spread to her hands, Jane wondered if she was remotely capable of following it through. She'd never been exactly a passive partner, but this moment with Maura was calling for her to actively involve herself with another person in a way she'd managed to avoid in what felt like a long time. _Since Hoyt. _

"Jane," Maura tilted her chin softly up towards her, trying to search out her eyes. Jane lurched in and kissed her hard instead, pulling out a moan from the back of the smaller woman's throat. When Maura pulled away several seconds later, she paused to read the blaze of desire in Jane's eyes, and a smile transformed her face. Flushed with heat, she was unbelievably beautiful. The rest of the world fell away, and Jane felt herself entirely refocus. God, she _needed_ this! She wanted to have this woman no matter what it took from her. If it all went terribly wrong, well, it wasn't as if they would ever have to see each other again. As if coming to a decision of her own, Maura leaned in and kissed her again, slowly this time, her hips grinding her down softly against Jane's body. Now it was the detective's turn to moan.

Maura responded by unbuttoning Jane's shirt, and pulling it off down her arms, leaving her tanktop. Their lips found each other again seamlessly, alternating between kisses and soft smirks, as they worked at drawing gasps and moans from each other's lips. Jane's fingers crept under Maura's hair, tracing around the back of her neck and searching out the zip to her dress. Her fingers trembled again, only now it was due to her struggle not to rip the damn thing right off her. Instead she held herself in check, pulling it down agonisingly slowly, giving Maura every possible chance to tell her to stop. Maura remained wordless, her hands sliding flat against the detectives chest until her fingers collided with Jane's achingly hard nipples, teasing them mercilessly through the fabric while Jane groaned into her mouth.

She stroked her palms down the silky bare skin of Maura's back, down to the scrap of lace covering her ass. Maura ground harder against her lap in response before pulling back from a kiss to pause and inspect Jane's face for a moment. "What?" Jane asked her softly. Maura shook her head.

"Nothing." She kissed her again and reached down to pull Jane's top off over her head. "Mmm, god, yes" she hissed, running her fingertips down Jane's lean body in the dim light. Jane matched her by sliding Maura's dress off her slim shoulders. As her arms slipped out, the fabric pooled around her hips and Jane just worked on trying not to hyperventilate. Her body was unbelievable, _god, so much soft skin…_she caressed her slender waist, letting her eyes feast on her perfect breasts, encased in barely there pale blue lace. She lost herself utterly then, kissing Maura's neck, her throat, her collarbones. Her hands cupped Maura's tits and she was just hazily reflecting on her new definition of heaven_, _when the other woman pulled back again, staring at her with an incomprehensible expression.

"What?" she asked again, starting to feel concerned. Maura bit her lip and held her gaze.

"I want…" her voice trailed off and she looked uncertain. Jane straightened her spine slightly and brought her hands down to caress the woman's waist again. The naked vulnerability in Maura's eyes, fed something in her, returning her some kind of control.

"Tell me," she husked. "Tell me what you want." _I'd do anything. _The last thought shook her to her core. Maura seemed to read the look in her eyes, because as she leaned in, she found her voice again.

"I want you to fuck me," she murmured, and a small sound escaped the back of Jane's throat. She sensed _fuck_ was not a word Maura used often, but it sounded obscenely spectacular slipping from those perfect lips.

"Good," she exhaled shakily, "because I want to fuck you too." She leaned in to kiss her throat again but Maura pulled back just out of reach.

"No," she whispered. "You don't understand. I _really _want you to fuck me." She kissed the detective swiftly, and Jane felt another twist in their continuously shifting power dynamic. It left her dizzy. "Wait here," the blonde stood up and stepped out of her dress. The edges of Jane's vision went dark as she was treated to the view of Maura's body clad in nothing but expensive lingerie walking across the room and disappearing into the hall. She was still wearing the heels. For a moment Jane worried she might have a stroke, right there on the couch. _Holy christ, this woman._

When she returned, Jane remained so lost in the view in front of her that she didn't even comprehend what Maura was holding in her hand, until she was right in front of her. Jane had never seen anything like that in real life before, but if the intention of the rubber phallus and black leather straps were not abundantly clear all on their own, the look in Maura's eyes as she stood above her, biting her lip, made it crystal. Maura waited patiently for Jane's brain and mouth to reacquaint themselves. It took a moment.

"Oh," was all she managed, when her throat began to work again. Maura let the contraption fall onto the couch and climbed back into her lap. Jane's hands reached for her, pulling her in like she was dying of thirst in the desert and Maura was a long, cool glass of water. The blonde returned the kiss just as hungrily, then pulled back.

"I don't…usually," she started. "It's just…you're just, so…" she traced her fingers lightly down the tense muscles of Jane's torso again, before reaching around and gripping her hips, her fingernails digging in slightly causing Jane to arch her back. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about this, since I first saw you." She leaned in and pressed her lips against her ear, and repeated softly, "_I want you to fuck me, Jane_." The detective physically jolted. "Would you like that?" Maura asked, her tone making a play for innocent and winding up knowing instead. Jane pushed her up off her lap and pressed her down into the couch, crushing her under her body. Maura cried out and as Jane ground into her with her hips, she pushed up against her, grinding back. Jane kissed her until they were both breathless, desire and confusion coursing through her body so strongly it felt almost like rage. She pulled back with difficulty, panting now. Their eyes locked again and as Jane gazed down at Maura, taking in her heaving chest and her eyes darkened with longing, she wanted her so badly her vision felt hazy.

"Where's your bathroom?" she asked. Jane wasn't sure of anything much anymore, but she knew there was no way she was fumbling around with that thing in front of another human being.

"First on the right," Maura gasped, pointing. The strap-on dangled from the detective's left hand as she managed to stay upright long enough to close the bathroom door behind her, before leaning hard on it and sliding to the floor. She sat with her knees hunched up to her chest. _Fuck! What the hell are you doing Rizzoli? _

Tilting her head back and gazing at the ceiling, she tried to think this through clearly, attempting to stave off the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. She'd called Maura with the explicit purpose of having sex - sex, with a beautiful, available woman. Because she could. It wasn't a particularly big deal; after all, she'd done it before, albeit a long, long time ago. The problem was that while Jane didn't think she was especially unimaginative, she'd assumed the most likely scenario for the evening would be similar to what she'd experienced before in the past. There'd be a lengthy make-out session, a natural shedding of clothing followed by some soft, sensual stroking, or possibly some intimate involvement with another woman's skilful tongue. To be honest, she'd half imagined there'd be a lot more fooling around and - what - giggling? She groaned. _You idiot. Maura is hardly some intoxicated college girl, and you're not twenty-two anymore. You're both adults and you can sure as hell fuck like you are._

The problem was not that Jane didn't want to do it. She knew all she needed to do was say, s_orry hon, not really my thing, _and Maura would happily let her make it up to her in other enjoyable ways. The problem was that she did want to do it - _a_ _lot - _and she had no idea what that said about her. Sneaking her fingers into another girl's panties during a drunken sleepover? That was bicurious. Fucking another woman whilst wearing a strap-on? Well that was a whole other level of gay. _Why am I so worried about this like it has to mean something? You're consenting adults, in the privacy of her own home...no one else will ever even have to know! It's called being adventurous you big baby, nothing more. For crying out loud, you don't even know each other's last names, and what with how you're a cop and she's some kind of rich socialite...after tonight you'll probably never see each other again. So go out there and do whatever the fuck you want._

Pep talk over, Jane stood up, walked over to the mirror and looked her reflection sternly in the eye. Then she wriggled out of the rest of her clothes and stared down the harness. When she had all the straps in place, she looked back in the mirror again, peering down to check out her newly acquired junk. _Holy shit. _It was her, but not her. Her own familiar body, sporting an unfamiliar but fairly impressive cock. She shed her bra and stood there wearing nothing but her own tanned skin and her newly apparent erection. She fought back a snort of laughter and grasped it experimentally. A thrill shot through her body as the base rubbed against her in an impressively specific manner. _Ohhh. _Several things became extremely clear to Jane in that moment. She ran her hand over the dildo a few times and the power charge that raced through her dispelled her final misgivings. She strode out of the bathroom, dick first.

Maura was waiting for her on the couch, sitting upright but a little askew, leaning down on one hand, her toes brushing the floor and her heels kicked off to the side. Her posture was somehow confident and vulnerable at the same time, and the sight of her inflamed Jane all over again. She looked up as Jane appeared through the doorway and her jaw went slack. Her legs shifted slightly, either with nervous energy or as if being directly commanded by the part of her brain that had clearly just taken over the reins. "_Oh," _her voice was almost inaudible.

"Oh," Jane agreed, as she eyed her.


	4. Chapter 4

**God bless you every one, and your occasionally astoundingly specific reviews. You want them to do it in the where with the what now? Lemme just say now before you get reading…DON'T WORRY; WE WILL REVISIT THIS 'PLOT DEVICE' AGAIN AT A LATER POINT I PROMISE, lord love you.**

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I feel it like TGTGT in my inbox every time. Er...**

**Hey and also…AU? No way guys, this is 100% canon. It happened. I can think of literally no other reasonable explanation for this show.**

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><p>Jane Rizzoli didn't talk to anyone about sex all that much. It wasn't really the lapsed Catholic thing as much as it was a tomboy thing; her friends were all guys, and guys just didn't talk about sex. Brag, fabricate and fantasise out loud perhaps, but never <em>talk. <em>Real sex was private, hinted about in jokes or sulked about over a beer, but never explicitly discussed, and that suited Jane just fine. She'd throw in a requisite _"you guys are all disgusting pigs,"_ once in a while just for the sake of form, but for the most part, she was one of the guys and their way was comfortable to her. The odd occasion when she did hang out with other women hardly transformed her into Ms. Carrie Bradshaw either. Men were just people when it came down to it, so squealing about penis size and bitching about brief performances just seemed catty to Jane and kind of missing the point. But even though she'd never bragged about them in the Dirty Robber or memorised _Cosmo's Top Nine-Hundred and Seventy-One Sexual Positions_, it didn't mean that she didn't know a lot about orgasms. Or so she'd always thought.

She'd had her first one when she was twelve, alone, and entirely by accident. Afterwards there had been guilt and confusion, followed by an instant commitment to seek the feeling out again wherever possible. The first time she'd had one with another person present was at age fifteen, in between the emptied wine bottles rolling around on the floor of Christina Jones' messy bedroom, fully dressed with just her jeans upzipped. A year later when the whispered smirks in the corridors finally became unbearable, she started dating Casey instead. The official line was that she'd given him her virginity, a gift of such obvious value to him that Jane couldn't bear to inform him that his younger sister had actually beaten him there first. He was an attractive, caring kind of guy, and when she eventually got over all the guilt, the sex improved too (although orgasms proved elusive - possibly due to Christina's habit of spit-sobbing at the mere sight of Jane for the next four months at least.) When she eventually convinced herself it wasn't really _cheating_ on Casey with Rosa Farrugia at Jason Morgan's finals party, she'd experienced another first - the thrill of the illicit orgasm - and after graduation the variety of her experiences only grew.

She'd had exciting, unexpected, heat-of-the-moment orgasms, casual just-because-we-can orgasms, deeply-in-love orgasms, frustrating hardly-worth-all-the-effort orgasms, angry hate-sex orgasms, and toe-curling, mind-blowing orgasms, all of them interesting at worst, and incredibly pleasurable at best. She'd had what she considered her fair share of them over the last two decades leaving her pretty confident she knew what they were all about. And okay, fine: things had been a little overly routine of late, and yeah, definitely, she'd hoped that this brief foray back into the world of girl-on-girl action with Maura might bring a little welcome thrill to her current humdrum existence. What she hadn't expected was to be _obliterated._

In the moment that Jane's climax finally hit her, she inhabited her body so completely that she entirely ceased to exist in any other form at all. Jane the person - the detective, the trauma survivor, the workaholic, the oldest child, the intimacy avoider - all were wiped from the face of the earth like they'd never existed and she was _nothing, _not human, not animal, no more than burning skin, trembling limbs and electricity exploding throughout every part of her body. Later she wondered if she'd momentarily lost consciousness; she felt as if an age had passed between her recollection of slamming her hips greedily against Maura as her pleasure skyrocketed and the moment she came back to herself, unable to recall when she'd last drawn breath. The first sensation that had even passingly resembled a thought felt less like a cognitive process and more like an awakening. A gateway had opened somewhere, and through a tiny gap she'd glimpsed something with utter clarity, something pure and unadulterated that she could reach for if she wanted to, something she'd thought she'd lost forever. _Happiness. _Her eyes flew open and she found herself crashing back into her shuddering body, every inch of her painfully alive. Hand in hand with the sensation was the twin memory of the only other time in her life she'd been so adamantly condensed down into nothing more than trembling flesh and blood. Her first properly conscious thought as she collapsed down into the heated curve of Maura's shoulder formed itself clearly: _Take that, Hoyt._

For a long while afterward all Jane could manage to do was breathe. With every inhalation she drew in the scent of the other woman - her perfume and clean hair, her sweat and arousal - while with every exhalation she was aware of the movement of another, more delicate ribcage pressed up against her own. For the first time in a long time, Jane felt entirely at peace and she stayed as still as she could for as long as she could, not wanting the fragile feeling to disappear. Finally, there was a slight shift beneath her and Jane raised her body back up on her elbows, willing herself to meet Maura's eyes.

Maura's eyes were closed in fact, but flickered open as she felt Jane stare down at her. Her hair was a tangled mess and there were traces of her lipstick smudged everywhere but her mouth. She looked utterly blissful. Jane started to laugh. "You're uh, looking a little _disorganised_ there, Maura," she traced a sweaty tendril of caramel coloured hair back behind her ear. Maura only smiled tranquilly, her eyes falling closed again and an entirely too belated thought struck her. _Fucking hell, Jane.._

"Did you, uh -"

"Twice, Jane."

"Oh. That's…good," Jane dimly recalled Maura crying out as their hips raced and fought against each other, before the blaze had started up behind her eyes and taken her over entirely. A mild snort escaped the other woman.

"Well, it was a bonus for me anyway, thank you Jane." Jane rolled her hips slightly, turning Maura's teasing tone into a sharp gasp at the insistent nudge of the toy inside her. Their eyes locked in challenge and for a second Jane considered angling for number three, just to make it up to her, but the tremble in her muscles forced her to realise the futility of that plan. Instead she leaned in and kissed Maura gently while she slowly pulled her hips back, sliding out from inside her body. The sensation drew a small groan from Maura, and her nails dug momentarily into Jane's back. Jane's fingers were clumsy against the straps, but she managed to get disentangled, her body freed to collapse onto her side on the couch, pulling Maura in close against her, one hand running admiringly down the curves of her deliciously naked body. They stayed that way for a while, until the coolness of the night air finally caught up with them and Maura shivered.

"Jane, come to bed," her voice was almost a whisper. As much as she didn't want it to, Jane's body stiffened.

"Maura…I don't think-"

"I'm not asking you to stay the night, Jane," Maura's tone was matter of fact. "It's cold, that's all, and I'm not quite…finished with you yet."

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><p>It <em>was<em> cold, but her shiver upon sliding between Maura's perfectly crisp, million dollar sheets was nothing compared to the shiver Maura caused her, pressing her warm naked body against her skin. Her lips brushed Jane's earlobe. "I want to give you back everything you just gave me," she whispered, and Jane's breath caught in her throat.

"Why does that feel like a threat?" she murmured a little tensely, unsure if this was something she wanted to happen or not. She had the strange desire to have her cock back again, just for the comforting sense of protective power it gave her.

Maura ignored her, her hot mouth opening instead on her earlobe, and then on her throat, her softly probing tongue circling and flicking against her sensitive skin, making sure Jane was sharply aware of the immense potential for her own pleasure Maura's sensual mouth held for her. It worked; the more Maura slowed and teased her on her descent, the more anxious Jane became for her to move further down her body, until her hips were bucking in little impatient thrusts, while Maura had only made her way to just below her collarbones, kissing and licking at her breasts. When she began to suck at Jane's nipples, first softly and then painfully, Jane was panting with the effort not to do what Maura clearly intended her to, which was to break down and beg. Unbeknownst to her, Maura had picked entirely the wrong opponent for this game; Jane could be astonishingly stubborn. It was both her best and worst feature. _There, that was something true about myself, that wasn't about being a cop, _she discovered. _I should have warned her about that when we were trading facts about ourselves and then we wouldn't be in this stalemate now. _Jane wasn't just stubborn in fact, she was completely bull-headed and obstinate when she'd put her mind to something. She was perversely bloody-minded, a headstrong, uncompromising possessor of a rigid iron will and -

"Please-" _Wait, what? _She felt Maura smile against her skin, and her head moved obligingly lower, before proving herself perfectly satisfied with exploring Jane's abs with her teeth and tongue, possibly for days if she felt like it. Jane gritted her teeth, in tortured misery. Even with her mouth tightly shut her body seemed to be begging eloquently enough for the both of them, her hips pressing up frantically, while Maura held herself just out of reach, denying her any contact except that which she chose to give her. Still it wasn't enough for Maura; she wanted to hear her say it. Jane groaned.

"Please, Maura! I need you." _This, I need THIS, what the hell, Jane? _A small satisfied sound hummed from Maura's throat and she took her victorious prize, sliding her tongue straight down into Jane's desperate ache. Jane's hips arched up in pained pleasure, her face flushing hot as she realised she'd just _ruined_ Maura's sheets with her need. She was so turned on, she could have come at any second, only Maura slowed her movements again, allowing her to teeter on the brink and then drawing her back again. The little flicks and swirls of her tongue were so tenderly precise it was like she'd known Jane's body for years instead of hours. She knew it was just an illusion born of the heat of the moment but the feeling of being the focus of someone's total devotion had been completely absent in her life for so long that tears stung at her eyes. She'd always been a little insular, but since Hoyt she'd resisted strongly even a hint of real closeness with anyone around her. The feeling being tugged out of her now was completely unprecedented. She blinked furiously, but Maura chose that moment to allow her release, drawing it out of her in one long gasping sob and Jane's body convulsed as the sound escaped her throat.

Maura slipped immediately back up her body and encircled her waist with one surprisingly strong slender arm. She was careful to nestle her face firmly into the crook of Jane's neck instead of looking at her directly, but Jane knew her escaping tears were leaking from her face onto Maura's despite her tactful stillness. She coughed, and tried to mask the moment gruffly.

"Sorry. I'm not usually a sex-crier, you're just _unbelievably_ good at that. What'd you do, take a class?" Maura seemed to freeze at her side, but after her sharp inhalation at Jane's jest, she slowly shifted, and ran one hand gently down Jane's bare arm.

"Are you alright, Jane?" her fingers continued down over the detective's wrist. "Is it…something to do with these?" without warning she ran her thumb over the angry purple scar in the centre of Jane's palm. Jane jerked away as though she'd been punched in the face, snatching back her hand and sitting upright in the bed. Maura had been so politely oblivious that Jane had kidded herself that she hadn't noticed the marks. Realising that _of course _she had, but that she'd known enough to act like she hadn't made Jane feel not just marked but mutilated. Her hands were practically ruined after all, and Jane couldn't even pull off a one night stand without inspiring sympathy. Maura sat up too, her face oddly pale.

"Jane, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Jane avoided her eyes. "Workplace accident," she used the usual euphemism she'd worked out early on to stamp out curiosity. Maura frowned, opening her mouth and then closing it again, biting her lip. Jane's shoulders remained tense, wanting to extricate herself out of the situation, wanting to wipe the last few minutes of the night from history, wanting Charles Hoyt to get the _fuck_ out the bedroom. "Makes me jumpy when people touch them that's all," she concluded. Sensing Maura was about to apologise again, she slid back down in the bed, tugging Maura with her and into her arms. She wanted to erase the uneasy expression from Maura's face, rid herself of her own vulnerability and reverse the track the evening had suddenly slammed down because it was making her feel sick. "Come here," she pulled Maura closer and gently rolled her, so she was lying on her back and Jane was on top.

"Jane-"

"It's okay," she murmured, kissing her softly, ignoring her slightly rigid posture. Maura's lips remained still under hers, and Jane kissed her harder until she yielded and allowed Jane's insistent tongue entrance. Her reticence goaded Jane slightly, increasing her adamance that Maura would end the night with no false ideas about Jane's fragility whatsoever. With a growl she pinned Maura's left hand and then her right above her head, holding both her wrists easily single-handed, leaving the other free to snake down under Maura's back and pull her hips in firmly against her own. Maura let out a choked cry and as her mouth fell open, Jane used the chance to kiss her deeply, invading her mouth aggressively until Maura fought back with her own tongue, her arms straining against Jane's firm hold on her. Jane kept her pinned, bending her neck to nip and suck on her throat and then her breasts, only letting her go when she needed both hands to grip onto Maura's hips instead. While in the past she'd only ever been on the receiving end of this particular act between women, Jane's urge to go down on Maura that very second, was as strong as it was sudden. Without a moment's pause to angst about the ramifications of this new-found desire on her perception of her sexuality, she was pushing down between Maura's thighs and giddily inhaling her scent as she hungrily pressed her face up into the slippery heat she found there.

She was dimly aware of Maura's shocked cries as she pressed her tongue against her and stroked slowly upwards, savouring the taste and sensation. _Oh my god… _Jane wanted so much more. She slid her hand up Maura's thigh and pushed her fingers inside her, swirling her tongue and seeking out the spot that made the other woman gasp each time she hit it. When Maura's hands eventually tangled painfully in her hair and she pushed herself down on her face, choking out a strangled "_Oh, god, Jane!"_ and squeezing tightly around her fingers, she knew with perfect clarity that she would never forget this woman as long as she lived. She stayed where she was for a long moment, her tongue softly stroking her down from her orgasm until Maura finally had to cry "Jane, stop!" as her newly sensitive flesh ached under her attention.

Exultant, Jane kissed her way back up Maura's body, her gleeful grin surprisingly infectious until Maura dropped her hand over her eyes and laughed. Jane scooped her in close and smirked down at her handiwork. Maura looked wonderfully ravished. All things Hoyt carefully locked back in their box, she collapsed with a happy sigh, dropping a kiss on the top of Maura's head and closing her eyes. Maura let her head fall onto Jane's shoulder, and after kissing her hair one last time, Jane spoke up.

"It's late, Maura. I should go."

"Okay," Maura agreed. "I have an early start too. But, Jane...I feel so good right now," she smiled up at her, her expression soft and open. "Would you stay holding me, just a little bit longer? Please?" Jane found herself nodding, against her better judgement. Maura did feel amazing in her arms, so warm and silky and pliable. She looked amazing too, even more stunning than she had when the evening had started. Flushed skin, sex hair, swollen lips and heavy eyelids definitely suited her. _She's so fucking beautiful…maybe even the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. _With thoughts like that threatening to take seed in her brain, Jane knew she had to go sooner rather than later. It had been a strange and amazing night. The whole thing felt surreal, like a momentary holiday to another planet, where she wasn't Jane Rizzoli at all, but someone far more secure and confident, open and alive. Maura had brought it out of her, but the spell would only last so long. In the morning, it was back to the real world, and that fact alone saved her from her night's accumulated vulnerabilities. The memory of this night would sustain her for a long, long time. She couldn't ruin it by trying to make it into something it could never be. So she'd get up in a few minutes, and stagger back out into her life. Maura's bed was just so very comfortable, and she was so wonderfully worn out…

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><p>"Jane!" the voice roused her with a start. She groaned and pressed her face back into the warm chest she'd been nestled into. "Jane, it's five a.m!" Jane's eyes flew open and she tilted her head back to see Maura's alarmed face. "I have to be at work in just over two hours! You have to go."<p>

Jane rolled onto her back, rubbing her eyes at the rude awakening. "Okay," she husked. Her heart was hammering, partly from the suddenness of being jerked from her sleep, but also because this was it. Time to go. Goodbye to Maura. It was fine, it was good, it was right, but that didn't stop her arm from jerking out and grabbing Maura's waist and pulling her on top of her for one last thorough kiss.

Maura flinched in surprise, but she kissed her back. "No stalling," she reprimanded her, kissing her swiftly and pulling away; Jane felt unreasonably bruised by her business-like manner. She pulled her back again, and Maura squeaked as Jane's thigh landed clumsily between her own. Their eyes met, as Jane deliberately pressed up harder against Maura's still wet centre and her hands dropped to her hips.

"I guess this is goodbye then," she stated lightly, softly rocking against her. Maura swallowed hard.

"I suppose it is," she didn't move and Jane bucked her gently, causing her head to fall back slightly. Jane's eyes widened, partly at the wonderful view above her, and partly at Maura's slight shift to accommodate her, bringing her own thigh insistingly into contact with Jane's simultaneously increasing arousal. Suddenly she was very awake.

"So… …goodbye, Maura," she couldn't help her slight smile as she sped up the rhythm, lifting her hips and thrusting their bodies closer. Maura arched her back into her touch and thrust back.

"Goodbye…Jane…" her voice was breathless, her hips rocking harder against Jane's thigh. "God, this is so irresponsible," she reproached, even as Jane's hands crept up her body to pinch gently at her nipples, drawing out a groan. "I'm going to have such trouble concentrating today - _ohhh - _when all I'm going to be able to think about - _uhh _- is - _uh - _you - _mmmpf-_" Maura broke off her complaint as her thighs began to tremble and she raced efficiently to her finish. The sight of Maura, naked and arching backward, crumpling in pleasure quickly threw Jane over the edge as well, and they clung to each other gasping for all of thirty seconds, before Maura leaned in, kissed her softly and pointed her finger towards the door.

"Get out," she ordered, her mouth quirking. Jane bit the outstretched finger, shoved Maura off of her and flounced from the bedroom, hopping around the living room and searching out her discarded clothing. By the time she was fully dressed, Maura arrived from the bedroom, clasping a bed sheet around her body.

"As hot as you look right now, you may want to rethink your outfit if this is your first day on the job," Jane advised her. Maura just shook her head and opened her front door, waiting. Jane winced and finished tying her boots, then made as if to walk past Maura into the pre-dawn light.

"Jane," Maura took a step outside onto the street, and Jane stopped and turned back as if surprised to still see her. "Can I have a kiss goodbye please?" Jane stepped in close and obliged her, surprised to realise her hands were trembling a little, disguising the fact by pulling Maura against her by her hips. The briskness had slipped from Maura's face and she murmured quietly, "I'm never going to see you again, am I Jane?" Jane jolted at the bareness of her words, her first urge being stupidly to reassure her, kiss away the sadness from her eyes and say, _I'll meet you for a drink after work tonight and you can tell me all about your first day. We'll come back here and do it all over again, and then…_

"No," she admitted softly. "Believe me, Maura, it's better this way." Maura didn't even try and argue with her.

"Okay," she agreed simply. "Then just go already, would you?" the teasing briskness returned, leaving no trace of the vulnerability Jane had thought she'd glimpsed. She kissed her one last time, ignoring the tightness in her chest.

"Good luck today," she smiled at the sheet-clad woman, before stepping away onto the street. The first rays of of golden light were starting to blaze through the buildings behind her, the light glowing on Maura's skin, little gold flecks appearing in her eyes. Jane felt the image engrave itself on her heart.

"Goodbye, Jane."

"Goodbye, Maura." Jane turned and walked away forever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks thanks thanks lovely fickies. Feelin the love. Here's some back for you: [LOVE] Have some to take away as well: [LOVE TO TAKE AWAY] / [LOVE TO GO, IF YOU'RE AMERICAN]**

Disclaimer: _Show me your teeth._

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><p>Despite her early start to the day, Jane still managed to run significantly late for work that morning. For one thing, her weekend had been strangely lacking in laundry time, and in order not to show up to work naked, Jane had been forced to spot clean a ketchup stain from her favourite light blue t-shirt before drying it with her hairdryer, and she wasn't entirely convinced of the end result. Worst of all, since everything she'd worn last week seemed to have accumulated into a pile next to the couch, Jane was forced to resort to actual ironing, just so she'd have pants and a blazer in roughly the same shade.<p>

Of course there was also the fact that she'd had barely any sleep to speak of the night before, which would probably account for how she'd zoned out for an unspecified amount of time in the shower (reliving the image of Maura freeing herself from her bra whilst sitting in Jane's lap) until she smelled the coffee pot burning dry in the other room and leapt into a dangerous nudie run, skidding a little on the kitchen tiles, too late to salvage what was left of the necessary caffeine. _Right. Not a good morning for multi-tasking then. _

Her tiredness was probably also to blame for the fact that she'd somehow taken a wrong turn on the commuting route she'd been taking every day for the last five years (albeit never before whilst simultaneously recollecting the litany of different sounds Maura had made as Jane slowly pushed inside her for the first time) and had wound up on the highway east, having to flash her police lights to extricate herself out onto the first available exit, thus leaving her at the wrong goddamn side of town. Jane should have been furious, but somehow every time some soccer mom in an SUV cut her off without indicating, her brain would flash with an image of Maura - breathless and laughing, sweating and moaning, biting her lip and sighing - and everything inside her became wonderfully calm. Jane grinned. _Meditation, Jane Rizzoli style. _Picturing Maura naked was a damn sight more relaxing than picturing an empty white room or whatever. It certainly worked for her.

Okay fine, so she was on a complete fucking sex high. She'd need to figure out how to wipe the grin off her face before she walked in the door, or she'd never live it down. Finally pulling into the parking building, she stopped and checked herself out in the rearview mirror. She thought she looked pretty good considering the lack of sleep. Her skin was practically glowing and her eyes seemed unnaturally bright…_cut it out you asshole; no one is going to know. _She headed up to the squad room.

"Woah, Jane, what's the other guy look like?" Korsak greeted her, looking intrigued.

"Huh?"

"You get punched or what? Heh, I bet you busted his balls for that."

"Coupled with the fact I have no idea what you're talking about, don't you think it's a little too early in the morning to be discussing balls?" Jane shot him the closest approximation she had for a glare that morning.

"Actually Jane, it's after well after nine. Only thing early here this morning is your paperwork," he gestured to the mountain on her desk, catch up she'd have to play after the weekend's grunt work. Jane groaned. "Seriously, perp related or sports related?" he continued. Now she did glare.

"What the hell Korsak - are you talking in code this morning? Cos I did not get a lot of sleep last night, so just…get to the punchline already will you?" she threw her hands around to emphasise her point. Frost and Korsak exchanged a look.

"He's talking about your swollen lip, Jane," Frost informed her. Jane's hand flew up to her mouth. _What?_ Frost cocked his head at her, taking in her sudden flush and his eyes started to dance. "Woah, sorry, lack of _sleep _you were sayin'?" He cupped his hand around his chin mouthing exaggeratedly across the room, "Don't think it was a perp, Korsak."

"Huh?"

"Shut it Frost," her eyes narrowed in warning, but the younger detective was too thrilled to finally have something to tease his overly serious partner with to let this chance go by.

"Detective Rizzoli got _laid_," he sang under his breath.

"What was that?" Korsak raised a furry eyebrow from his perch across the room.

"_Nothing!"_ came the razor sharp concluding argument with which Detective Rizzoli managed to comprehensively crush all speculation. Frost rescued her with a smirk.

"Definitely sports related," he informed the older detective seriously. Jane put both hands on her hips.

"Great. Can we get back to work now?" She collapsed into her desk chair, her good mood starting to fray as she subtly tried to check out her lip in her computer's blank monitor. It wasn't that bad was it? She flashed through the night in her mind, quickly trying to evaluate if anything had happened that could have possibly given her a lip injury. She paused - there were probably quite a few likely scenarios when she thought about it. _Gee, I don't know Korsak, it was either due to one of the best kisses I've ever had in my life, or it was when I got hit in the face with a vagina. _On the bright side, the momentary reflection had at least caused her mood to pick up again. She struggled hard to wipe the smirk from her face then frowned down at the stack of papers on her desk, forcing herself to focus. _Ugh. Back to reality, Rizzoli._

* * *

><p>"You coming with us or what?" Korsak's hand on her shoulder made her jump.<p>

"Hm?" Jane blinked, turning in her chair to see Frost and Korsak both on their feet, and Lieutenant Hoff standing over by the door looking expectant. Korsak rolled his eyes.

"I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but you need some more coffee, Rizzoli. I said, Dr. Isles started this morning - the new medical examiner? Hoff wants us down in the morgue to introduce us while Dr. Davis finishes up his handover."

"Oh! Right," Jane was just glad to have a reason to stretch her legs. She cracked her neck and stood up. "Isles huh? What's he like?" Hoff held the door as they all filed out.

"Reckon you finally got yourself some company around here, Rizzoli," was Hoff's enigmatic response. She raised an eyebrow but otherwise ignored him. No good could ever come of engaging that man in a conversation. Frost straightened his tie as they stepped into the elevator.

"I've been hearing good things bout the new doc," he sounded smug to have information she didn't. "_Real _good things."

"Oh, yeah? Anyone would be an improvement on Deadbeat Davis," she griped as the doors pinged open. Korsak winced and grabbed her arm stopping her from following the others through the swinging doors.

"Go easy Rizzoli, it's the man's last day," Korsak winced at her. "He's retiring for god's sake, no need to shove him out the door with your boot up his ass." Her old partner's ability to be shocked by Jane's insensitivity never failed to amaze her. _ I mean, he's met me, right? _

"Jeez, you old guys are so thin-skinned sometimes," she joked. Korsak scowled and Jane realised the tenuous allusion to his own retirement had wounded him. "Aw, Korsak, wait-" he strode through the door, almost letting it hit her in the face on it's back swing. She dodged and made it in just in time to hear the tail end of Hoff's introduction.

"…And this here is Detective Korsak and the _late_ one-" Hoff glared at her, "-that's Detective Rizzoli."

Jane's overtaxed brain took a few seconds to fully comprehend the scene before her. Lain out on the table was her stabbing vic from Saturday and above his gaping chest cavity hovered a scalpel, held in the blood-smeared, gloved hand of a small figure in black scrubs. Jane's stomach lurched and a loud ringing started up in her ears. She managed, just barely, to stop herself from crying out, but to her horror she realised that Dr. Maura Isles was not going to be able to win that battle herself. The scalpel dropped into corpse's open chest with dull thud as her jaw dropped in fright.

"…_Jane!" _she gasped.

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><p>Three curious sets of male eyes swung between them as the two women stared at each other in shock. <em>Oh no, DON'T do this…<em> The panicked message in Jane's wide eyes must have been obvious because Maura quickly drew in another breath trying to cover her unexpected outburst.

" …_Rizzoli," _she concluded with a struggle. "Of course, I've heard so much about you," her lips formed a tight smile. "And…Vince Korsak," she managed to rip her eyes away from the speechless brunette. "I've read many of your cases together, very impressive." Her breathing was fast as her eyes fell on Frost who smiled at her encouragingly. "I'm afraid I'm not yet aware of your work, Detective Frost, but I'm very much looking forward to working with all…of you," her voice lost volume a little bit as the full implications began to hit her and her eyes connected with Jane's again, alarm flickering in their depths. Jane held herself extremely still. _I've seen you naked, _her brain raced. _You…bruised my lip._ Frost shifted, obviously disappointed.

"I'm Detective Rizzoli's partner," he started to explain, clearly hoping for a little bit of the attractive M.E.'s admiration to be shared in his direction.

"Her _partner?" _Maura squeaked, a look of panicked guilt crossing her features. Jane struggled for her voice, attempting to stop the rapidly approaching train wreck.

"Detective Frost is my new working partner," she clarified, her voice emerging slightly higher pitched than usual. "He's new, but he's good," she amended, feeling desperately grateful for his distraction. Frost's chest swelled ridiculously at her casually mild validation.

"Yeah," Korsak interjected. "Frost's a real whiz-kid. I'm just the old man who's on his way out, Dr. Isles." Maura looked uncertain.

"Oh, I'm sure that's-"

"_C'mon_, Korsak, I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant, Jane-"

"Alright," Hoff interrupted. "As you can see Dr. Isles, our leading unit at Boston Homicide are a team of highly qualified individuals," he eyed the three of them sarcastically, "-any of whom will be more than happy to help you with any queries you may have as you settle in. For my money, they're extremely lucky to have you."

Maura nodded politely, "Thank you, Lieutenant." Her posture seemed to have relaxed but Jane could see she was gripping hard to the edge of the autopsy table, her gaze fixed on the internal organs of the corpse in front of her. Jane on the other hand, was having trouble dragging her eyes off the new M.E. _I kissed you goodbye this morning. Oh, right - after we spent the whole night fucking. Oh my GOD…_ Hoff turned back to the detectives.

"While this is her first posting as chief, Dr. Isles comes highly recommended. She topped her class at BCU medical school and has since built an impressive career in forensic medicine, most recently as a senior examiner for the Chicago Police Department. Her methods have uncovered key evidence resulting in the successful prosecution of many complex cases that would have otherwise remained unsolved. She's a wealth of expert information and I encourage you to reshape your current practise to involve her input wherever possible."

"We'll certainly do that, Lieutenant," replied Frost, smiling enthusiastically at the M.E. Jane glared at him, and he mouthed at her an innocent _What? _Hoff sighed.

"Alright, then. Dr. Isles is clearly busy and you three seem to be running late for your couple's counselling, so let's all get back to it, shall we? Anything you need, Dr. Isles, just ask."

* * *

><p>Avoiding Maura's eyes, Jane had turned on her heel and all but fled from the room as the meeting broke up. Instead of waiting for the elevator with the others, she'd blurted something over her shoulder to her colleagues about coffee and rushed blindly into the stairwell. She'd locked herself into the third floor women's bathroom and had been there ever since. <em>This can't be happening. <em>

Her shock, her lack of sleep and her total confusion all accumulated until she felt herself on the brink of all out panic. She'd had several panic attacks during the fallout from Hoyt and since they'd made her feel like she was genuinely dying and then genuinely crazy, Jane was desperate to avoid one ever again. She tried to slow her breathing down like the post-incident debriefing psychologist had taught her. _Nope, meditating is out now, Rizzoli. _The object of her earlier daydreams was now four floors below her, carving up a body. _This is so fucked up._

_You thought you could have this, Jane Rizzoli? You thought you could just let go of who you are and indulge yourself like that, then skip off without consequences? How could you be so fucking stupid?_

The woman downstairs was the Boston Police Department's new Chief Medical Examiner. She was also the woman who'd seen Jane naked._ Naked, wet, trembling and wearing a strap-on, just for bonus points._ Jane groaned and pressed her forehead into the cool bathroom door, her fists clenched at her sides. Dr. Isles had seen the outwardly heterosexual Detective Rizzoli panting with desire as she buried her face in another woman's bare breasts. She'd heard with her very own ears the gasping confessions of lust that had come tumbling out of her mouth while she'd bent her over the couch and fucked her mercilessly, with obvious and unabashed joyous abandon. Then, to top it all off she'd seen Jane cry. Ran her fingers over her scars. And now, Jane would have to work with her every single day for the forseeable future.

For the first time in her entire career, Jane wanted to give up. It was finally, finally too much. Hoyt had come so close to taking everything from her and it had ripped her life apart. Things that had never scared her before, scared her now. Beliefs she'd held her whole life had been shattered in one long terrifying instant and her whole understanding of the world had been reshaped to accommodate her new realisations about what was truly _possible_. She was never safe,_ no one _was ever safe, especially not the people she loved. There was no way to be prepared. She'd started to doubt her own ability to make decisions, to know the right course of action, or whether she even believed what she heard whenever she opened her own mouth. And through all of that, the one place she'd felt safe, felt secure in knowing exactly who she was and what she had to do, had been at work. Detective Rizzoli could still be fearless, even if Jane wasn't. Detective Rizzoli was firm, knowing and in control, even when Jane was bewildered and unsure. Then all it had taken was one step into the morgue that morning and Detective Rizzoli and the scariest, most vulnerable part of Jane had slammed up against each other, reconnected into one amorphous being by the presence of Maura Isles. It was utterly unbearable.

_That's it, _she decided. _I quit. I'll walk out of this bathroom, get into my car and I'll drive away to start a new life in New York. No, Canada. No, Mexico! I'll sell my apartment and live off the proceeds and drink tequila from dawn til dusk. I'll change my name. I'll witness protect my own goddamn self, I don't even care. I don't want this lousy life anymore, someone else can have it. _

Problem effectively solved, she managed to calm her breathing. She walked to the sink and splashed some water on her face, then stood up straight and went back to work.

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><p>To her relief her colleagues had ducked out for lunch while she'd been gone. By the time they returned - Korsak silently depositing a make-up coffee on her desk - Jane felt tolerably calm. Work could always do that to her, even bland, straightforward paperwork days in their own way. It was so familiar by now that it felt like second nature, creating an illusion of order to the messy world out there, now summarised, stamped and filed. She hunched her shoulders and stared down at her desk as she became aware of the snippets of conversation floating around the squad room.<p>

"Oh man, I so would…I mean, legs like those? Damn…"

"Like you'd have a chance you fat asshole-"

"Chick like that is _way_ out of your league, no matter how many mistresses you say you got."

"I don't think so, a woman that cuts up corpses for a living? I bet she's real tweaked, you know what I'm saying? In fact, I reckon she-"

"Alright, shut it down,_ RIGHT NOW!" _the words were out before she could stop them. "Some of us," she menaced, "are trying to work, so if you want to jerk off you could at least do it in private," her thunderous look encompassed the entire room, earning her a good three and a half seconds of quiet, before they started in again.

"Ooh, Rizzoli…forgot we were in the presence of a _lady…" _

_"_You want a chance at her yourself, Rizzoli?"

Jane bunched her fists but tuned out the rest of the taunts as Frost perched on the side of her desk.

"Assholes," he comforted her. "New doc seems nice, huh?"

"I don't _know!_" she protested. "I just met her!" Frost looked at her for a beat too long and she snapped. "Like you're any better than any of them-" she waved her hands at the other detectives. "_Oooh, yes Lieutenant, we'll work real close with the nice doctor. Does that mean I get to hold her hand? _I mean, it's sickening, Frost. I thought corpses made you spew anyway." Her junior partner's face turned blank, but he stood up and looked at her levelly, even as she started to cringe inside.

"You need some sleep, Rizzoli," was all he said, before turning and walking back to his desk. Jane groaned internally. _First Korsak and now Frost. _Looking over at both men's backs, she came to a decision. It was time to fix this.

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><p>Taking a huge breath in Jane pushed through the swinging door into the morgue. It was empty.<p>

"You looking for me?" the voice from the corner made her swing around.

"Uh, Dr. Davis, no, I-" she paused awkwardly, looking her old foe in the eye. He was slightly stooped, and in the mortuary lighting he looked every bit his age. In his hands he held a box of textbooks and creepy looking artefacts. A whole career, expired. Something crumpled inside her. "I, mean yeah. I…wanted to say…good luck with everything, alright? Enjoy Florida," she said, meaning it.

"Arizona," he corrected her. "But thank you. I will see you at my goodbye party won't I?" _Damnit, why does he have to look so shrivelled and sad?_

"Of course," she nodded. _Ah, damnit._

"Wonderful. Did you need something down here detective?"

"Uh, is Dr. Isles around at all?"

"Yes, she's in my - well - her office, go on in." Jane thanked him, and mindful of his eye on her, strode confidently up to tap on the door, rather than turning and running the other way like she wished she could.

"Come in," came Maura's soft voice from inside the office, and Jane wrenched open the door, closing it shut behind her before she could change her mind. She leaned back against it and raised her eyes to stare at the doctor sitting behind the desk.

"Jane," Maura breathed. Her eyes drifted down to take in the badge and gun at her belt. "Detective Rizzoli," her voice warmed as she corrected herself, biting her lower lip and flushing. Jane did not want to kiss her. _Did not, did not, did not. _

"Doctor Isles…" she returned, with a slow shake of her head. "Uh, how'd the first day of your new job go?" she asked wryly. Maura had changed out of her scrubs and into another ridiculously fabulous dress. A dress Jane knew she'd picked out that morning in her sex-scented bedroom after showering all the traces of Jane off her skin. She repressed her shiver. She wanted not to be noticing how well the dress fit her. She _had_ to stop noticing. There would be absolutely no more noticing. Maura dropped her eyelashes, a small smile appearing.

"Um, it's been…surprising," she offered. "Confusing, a little terrifying actually…" Jane got the impression she wasn't just talking about finding her way around the scalpel drawer. Maura stood up and walked around to the front of her desk, leaning on it to look at her. "_Oh my_," she paused, her eyes widening. "Sorry about your lip, by the way." Jane flushed. She steeled herself.

"Yeah, Maura, about that…"

"Jane, please. It'll be fine, we're both adults, we can talk about this." She must have been looking as queasy as she felt because Maura was rushing to reassure her before she'd barely opened her mouth. She had to stop this here.

"No, Maura," she sighed. "We can't, okay? We work together. We're going to be working together _a lot. _So there can be no _talking_ about it, not now, not ever. We have to pretend like none of this ever happened. Like we met for the first time this morning and that's all. Erase it from record, you know?" Maura looked at her for a few seconds, taking in her rigid jaw and her balled up hands.

"Oh," she said softly. "You're not out at work, are you?" her voice was sympathetic.

"Out?" Jane looked confused. "Oh, you mean _out," _her voice cracked with the realisation. "Maura, I'm not gay!" she protested. She read the flicker across Maura's features quite clearly, but the doctor felt the need to say it out loud anyway.

"But you like women…I mean last night you certainly-" Jane raced to cut her off before Maura was compelled to present her with the evidence.

"No, I don't _like _women!" she declared. "I like men, I really do. Exclusively men, actually. The last time I…_liked women-" _she lowered her tone, "-it was 1997, okay?" Maura's face blanched. "And even then it was just a, passing thing. You know...experimenting...?" Jane raced on.

"And so last night, with me, that was…"

"A momentary aberration!" she concluded. Maura flinched.

"I see…" her voice was faint and her eyes began to shine.

"No, Maura…I didn't mean that, like…" Jane floundered. "Look, I'm not homophobic or anything. It's not like I have anything against lesbians, or working with a lesbian, or lesbians-" Jane couldn't seem to stop saying the word.

"Oh, Jane, I'm not a lesbian," Maura seemed mildly surprised at the assumption. Jane's face spoke her doubt clearly. _Erm, I have evidence to the contrary as well, remember? _"I just, I don't see people that way. I'm attracted to people. Individuals. Almost all of them are men, but if I meet someone with an intriguing personality and a beautiful body-" she swallowed, "I find that combination alluring. So I wouldn't say I _liked women_ either. I liked…you. It's really very simple." The silence that stretched on after her statement made her blurt suddenly, "I went to boarding school in Europe, Jane." The detective frowned, not quite sure how that biographical detail was related.

"Right, but, you own…" her voice dropped to a whisper "…a _dildo_…so I think we're talking a different level of er, openness to being with women."

"Jane…I bought that after I met you. With you in mind. _For_ you." Maura's admission made Jane terribly uncomfortable. And instantly wet. She stood up straighter.

"Here's the thing, Maura. We had...fun, alright? I can admit that, no big deal, right? But I didn't go to a fancy school in Europe, I got taught by nuns. I'm really, actually quite, quite straight, no matter what happened last night after too many cocktails," she ignored the loud hitch in Maura's breathing, racing on. "And I promise you, if I'd had even the slightest inkling I was going to be running into you ever again, there's absolutely no way I would have gone there with you. So can we just forget about it and move on please?"

"Yes, thank you, detective," Maura's voice was cold and quiet. "You've made yourself perfectly clear. Although as far as the 'just friends' speeches I've heard in my life before, yours isn't exactly the friendliest." Jane felt cowed and guilty and the sensation quickly turned to anger. _She has no right to expect anything from me! I don't even know her! I had no idea she was going to be my colleague! This was all just sprung on me, completely without warning!_

"We're not friends, Maura," she raised her chin. "We've only just met each other and we have absolutely nothing in common, so I'm pretty sure that just makes us colleagues. We work together, and that's it. If you can't handle that then maybe you should find another job."

"Another_ job_?" Maura's jaw dropped. "Now you're being ridiculous!"

"Am I?" Jane pushed herself up off the door. "This is my life, Maura! This job is who I am! Look at you - everything you own is worth a million bucks! I've seen your house; I've seen what's in it. You probably don't even _have_ to work, do you? You could just walk away at any minute, but this is _all_ I have!" Maura was on her feet and moving towards her fast. She stopped barely a foot away from Jane and suddenly the detective could smell her perfume, could see the vein throbbing in her neck and the tiny reddened mark below her collarbone where Jane's teeth had scraped her skin only hours ago. A low tremble started up in Jane's spine and her breathing hitched.

"You think I haven't worked for this?" Maura cried angrily. "You think I just waltzed in one day on a whim, 'I know, I want to be chief medical examiner' and bought it for myself? This is who I am too, Jane and I _excel_ at it. I fought hard for this job, the same way you fought for yours, and I'm not going anywhere just because _you _feel uncomfortable." Her eyes were blazing sparks into Jane's and her chest was heaving. "So you're right. Let's pretend last night never happened. Let's not try and be friends. Let's be colleagues and nothing more." She took a tiny step even closer and gazed up at Jane, her eyes burning with scorn. "Which means I think you'd better leave my office right now before you try and kiss me, don't you, Jane?" she warned her savagely.

Jane fled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ew, back to work again little buddies...see you on the flipside in a few days. I promise to be writing this thing in my head in between times though.**

**xo**

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><p>Jane's faith in her religion had began to waver around the problem of <em>evidence<em>. She was nine years old when Sister Bernadette smacked her upside the back of her head after she caught Jane trying to make herself throw up, post holy communion, to see if really, the small lump of bread she'd swallowed had in fact turned into the hallowed body of Our Lord as promised in her catechism classes. The slap hadn't made her cry, but the small chunk of dough she'd produced had. _They were lying to us! _Her mother had reinforced the fact that even though it still looked like bread, smelled like bread and tasted like bread, the miracle of transubstantiation meant that appearances lied. _It's Jesus, Janie, alright? _Jane agreed reluctantly to suspend her disbelief a little while longer, but it only lasted up until the thorny issue of _justice_ raised its head. Joey Grant could cheat off her catechism test all he liked, but as long as he confessed beforehand he'd be confirmed just the same as she was, not to mention eventually wind up hanging around and bugging her in heaven, even though he was a liar and a cheater and called her nasty names? Well that was just great. Where was the incentive to do the right thing, if you always knew you were going to be absolved? Over the years Jane stopped trying to distinguish between which of her sins were mortal and which only venial and simply tried to stick to right and wrong. Her mother screamed and yelled at first when Jane started refusing to go to mass, but it was a token effort at best. Outside of school and community obligation, when it came down to it, the Rizzolis just weren't the most religious of families.

The actual God part stuck around a bit longer. She didn't pray or anything, she'd just gotten used to the idea of the big guy being around somewhere was all. Hoyt put an end to that idea for her though. You'd think that if there was ever a time for praying, being pinned to the ground with a scalpel through each hand would be it, but the idea of God didn't even cross her mind at that moment. The worst was happening, and Jane didn't even throw out a single skyward thought like _Help me. _Hoyt's foul breath was in her face, with a third scalpel at her throat; ergo, there was no god. Which meant that just like always, Jane would have to save herself. Except this time, she was failing. The only big guy who could save her now, did. And now, Vince Korsak was providing the last remaining vestiges of Catholic Jane what she needed: penance.

"You need to keep your back straight, Korsak," she gripped onto his gleaming white sneakers on the gym mat, while he groaned into another sit-up. "If you keep doing it that way you're going to do yourself an injury," Jane concentrated hard on his sweaty forehead, anything to keep her from the close-up view of Korsak's hairy legs.

"Urgh, enough Jane!" he collapsed backwards. "I already have a six-pack, it's just hidden under the rest of me," he claimed. "Pure muscle," he slapped his heavy gut under his tank top and Jane shook her head.

"Come on then, Ryan Reynolds, let's hit the rowing machine before we wind up." A tortured sigh emanated from the prone detective, but to his credit, he lugged himself over to the rowers, mopping sweat from his brow with his towel before sitting on the machine next to hers.

"Glad to have you back, Rizzoli. Women's gym not hardcore enough for you huh?" Jane stared straight ahead as she started to row.

"A little too hardcore, actually," she muttered. "Besides, you need my help, Fatty. Gotta keep you around as long as possible you know?"

"You betcha," he grinned at her. "I'll be chasing down perps til I'm eighty at this rate." They rowed in silence for a few minutes.

"You know, I was thinking we should invite Dr. Isles to Friday night drinks this week," Korsak paused in his rowing, ostensibly to take a sip of water. Jane didn't break pace.

"I don't think she's real social, Korsak. We shouldn't have to force her to hang out with a bunch of greaseball cops in a dive like the Robber if it's not her thing."

"Huh…" Korsak considered, "I don't know, I reckon she's got to be lonely working on her own down there in the basement all the time. Seems we should at least make an effort, you know?" Jane rowed a little harder.

"She didn't even come to Dr. Davis' farewell drinks, and that was her predecessor, so you'd think if _she_ was going to make the effort, it would have been then," Jane frowned. "She's not like us Korsak, I'm pretty sure she mixes with a whole other kind of crowd." Korsak wiped his face again. Jane could tell he was using the conversation to delay any further exercise for the moment but she let it go. _Don't want to have to give him CPR._

"She was sick that night, Jane," he told her. "Davis told me. Said she'd promised to come and then backed out the next day." Jane tried not to feel guilty. The party had been the night after she'd confronted Maura in her office. She'd spent the entire evening at the Robber making sure to keep her back to the wall so that if the doctor had shown up, she'd know and could negotiate the crowd to avoid her on her way out the door.

"I don't know Korsak, I just think she's probably more comfortable hanging out with friends who are more her kind of people," she argued. _Or you know, anyone who's not me. _Korsak finally turned back to row again.

"What friends, Rizzoli? She told me she hadn't lived in Boston for over ten years - who's she even know around here?" Jane snorted.

"Dead people? She's been working here a whole month but I've never really seen her interacting with anyone else. I think it's a choice, Korsak. I think she's happy down there in the morgue, being all…Queen of the Dead." A guffaw came from the treadmill behind her.

"Queen of the Dead, I like that one," Crowe chuckled. "Hey, Cunningham, guess what Rizzoli just called your new girlfriend?" Jane winced.

"Shut up, Crowe," she protested. Korsak had paused again and was looking at her oddly.

"What's your problem, Rizzoli? BPD is such a boy's club, I'd have thought you'd have a bit more sympathy for the doc. Wouldn't kill you to try a little," he grumbled. "I'm going to ask her to come along on Friday."

"Good luck with that one," Jane's insides felt a little tight but she was pretty sure Maura would avoid any social setting that would be likely to include Detective Rizzoli.

They'd done alright really, working together. Jane was brief and business like and Maura was overly precise and emotionless to the point of seeming almost robotic. Sometimes Jane would look up at the perfectly controlled doctor on the other side of a corpse from her and wonder if she'd completely hallucinated the Maura who was sensual, alive and flirtatious. Dr. Isles was so impassive it was more like interacting with a hi-tech computer than an actual human being. It was a relief, to be honest. If she'd had to deal with the other Maura on a daily basis, Jane would have been in sheer hell, whereas this one she could at least cope with. _So why do I feel so goddamned guilty? _She'd just done what she'd needed to do to defend herself and put in place some necessarily firm boundaries in order for both women to be able to work together professionally, to the best of their abilities. _I did the right thing, _Jane was convinced. Which in no way explained why she continually walked around feeling like a kitten murderer.

"Same time, same place tomorrow, right Rizzoli?" asked Korsak, as he clambered up to his feet, retrieving his drink bottle.

"Yeah, Korsak," Jane sighed. At this rate she'd be doing penance forever.

* * *

><p>Jane groaned and threw down her pen. The case was stalled. Drive-by shooting, one dead teenaged gang member, one dead middle-aged bystander, and - to no one's shock - no apparent witnesses, despite the broad daylight nature of the crime. She and Frost had spent the entire morning knocking on doors, only to have half of them shut in their faces and the other half claim to have not seen or heard a thing. They were waiting to see what the crime scene techs would show up, but Jane wasn't feeling especially optimistic, particularly as she was facing down a long week of trying to drag in members of the rival gang to question. She was just about to just kick-start the headache she knew was coming by banging her head against her desk when she heard a passing snicker.<p>

"Heads up boys, Queen of the Dead at eight o'clock."

Jane lifted her own head and watched Maura's approach. Dr. Isles held herself upright and seemed entirely unaware of the the uninvited attention on her, although Jane wondered if she could really be that oblivious. Anyone dressed like that would have to be expecting more than a few eyes to be on her. Maura's eyes though, were on Jane.

"Detective Rizzoli," she greeted her crisply. "Here are the autopsy reports on Zeke Sinclair and Ann-Marie Atkinson," she named the two shooting victims as she laid yet another voluminous, meticulously documented wedge of documents on the desk in front of her.

"Thank you, Dr. Isles," Jane returned politely, trying not to groan at the dense reading material awaiting her. Maura nodded and turned to go. Then she paused, turning back to Jane.

"You're not looking for a gang rival, Detective," she stated, her voice quiet but matter of fact. Frost and Korsak both pricked up their ears. "While I'm not prepared to speculate further, I suspect you may want to investigate Ms. Atkinson's personal life - look for any boyfriends, or ex-partners and start there."

"You think Ann-Marie was the target, not Zeke?" Jane asked her dubiously. _The middle aged-white kindergarten teacher, not the kid wearing gang patches in the wrong part of town? _She waited.

"Definitely," Maura confirmed. "Ms. Atkinson's body showed evidence of multiple assaults over the years; mandibular, zygomatic and nasal bone fractures, as well as previous fractures to both left and right radius and ulna and to multiple ribs. The fractures vary in age, which rules out a single violent trauma event, while the most recent fracture is approximately a year old." Jane frowned.

"Thank you, doctor. We'll certainly keep in mind all angles of investigation, as always." Despite Jane's mildly defensive tone Maura didn't leave, instead stepping closer to lean against Jane's desk. Jane refused to look at her legs.

"That's not all," Maura continued. "Trace analysis as well as the precise shape of the bullet trajectory show that Zeke was hit by a bullet that ricocheted off a blue metallic structure, which I believe the crime scene techs will soon tell you was the post box next to where Ms. Atkinson was standing," her fingers toyed with the edges of the file she'd placed in front of Jane. "Furthermore, Jake took a single bullet through his right lung whilst his body was in a crouched position, and while there are several viable explanations for this, the crime scene photos do show that his left shoe lace was untied." _Was she serious? _Maura's legs were neatly crossed at the ankle and Jane was wondering how she managed to stand up doing autopsies all day in heels like that, before she remembered she wasn't in fact, looking at Maura's legs.

"So, you're saying, he probably wasn't immediately visible from the road, meaning a deliberate hit on him is unlikely?" she asked. Maura shook her head.

"That would be an assumption. I'm merely telling you what position the body was in, in relation to the path the bullet took through his body." Jane blinked at her.

"Right… our other vic, however was shot in the head," Jane had been at the scene as well. She had a vivid recollection of Maura's gloved hands pushing aside what was left of the victim's hair to expose the caved in skull, while Frost retched violently in the background. "Frost, run me through everything we got on Ms. Atkinson again?"

After a digging a little deeper, Frost's uncanny knowledge of just where to hunt when given a keyboard and a search engine, lead it to become quickly obvious that Ann-Marie Atkinson was in fact an assumed name for Barbara Hollinghurst, the estranged ex-wife of Stuart Hollinghurst, a man with two prior convictions of assault and battery, and an unregistered firearm charge. Barbara had taken out a restraining order against him twelve months ago beforehand, when she'd separated from him. She'd certainly been afraid of him enough to move away and attempt to hide behind a new identity.

Maura didn't outwardly share in their building excitement as the pieces fell into place, but she remained at Jane's desk, nodding thoughtfully and adding occasional interjections. As Frost brought up Stuart Hollinghurst's last registered address, she smiled briefly in satisfaction and stood up to return to the morgue.

"Wait, doc," Korsak called to her. "Come for a drink with us tonight at the Robber. It's a Friday thing…team bonding, you know? Besides, you just cracked our case, so drinks are on Frost," he shrugged his shoulders, eyes twinkling at her. A tiny flash of surprised pleasure showed itself in Maura's eyes for a fleeting second before it disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

"Thank you, Detective. I appreciate the invitation but I'm afraid I already have plans this evening," Maura's face remained perfectly closed. Jane wondered if she was the only one who could see it, if she was the only person in the building who'd ever known how Maura looked when she was relaxed or happy during the whole month she'd been there. "I hope you catch your suspect," the doctor offered in way of farewell. She turned to leave and Jane was struck with how small she looked, how utterly out of place with her bright dress and flowing hair in the room full of large bulky men, half of whom were still jabbing each other in the ribs at her presence as she moved past them to return to the basement. At that moment the feeling she'd been trying to avoid for weeks hit Jane square in the chest. _Contrition_: _a true grief of the soul._ _Really? Goddamn catechism again, what is you with today? _

"Wait…M-Maura!" she called after her. The doctor stopped still at her voice for a couple of seconds, before turning back, a questioning look on her face. "You _should_ come tonight," she tried. "The Dirty Robber is a dive but it's a Boston Police tradition. Serves great…peanuts." Maura paused, nodding slowly.

"I'd like that…Jane," she appeared to accept their return to first name basis, although she looked wary. "But I really do have a date tonight. Another time would be nice though."

"Okay," Jane husked. "Have fun."

* * *

><p>Jane was glad Maura had turned down the invitation. She needed a night out with her colleagues without having to be on her best, most excruciatingly careful behaviour. She didn't know what she'd been thinking earlier; socialising with Maura - god, particularly around alcohol - was never going to be a bright idea. It just sucked that it had to be this way, that was all. She was glad that after everything it was turning out to be possible for the two of them to be merely colleagues. For the first couple of weeks Jane had been terrified of slip-ups, scared that somehow the truth would come flying out of Maura's mouth and everyone would know. But that was before she saw how capable Maura was of cutting that entire aspect of their relationship out so completely - <em>so ruthlessly and remorselessly - <em>and Jane was relieved by that, of course, comforted even. It was…great. It was just that it seemed a little over the top for Maura to be excluding herself from everyone else as well. It seemed wrong that Maura couldn't go for work drinks with her new colleagues - and that it was Jane's fault, she knew it was. Maybe they could work out a system, like where Jane took one Friday night and Maura the other. It wasn't like Jane was incapable of sharing, for christ's sake. She was reasonable.

Anyway, Maura wasn't here, and that was a good thing. She could let down her hair, get a bit drunk and not have to think about her, at all. Because Maura was on a date, anyway, which was also great. Maura had totally moved on (not that Jane was worried about the doctor remaining hung up on her or anything, jesus, she didn't have that much of an ego) and everything was on its way to being normal. It was a relief. It was good, everything as it should be. Jane, out with her work colleagues, having fun - loads of fun even - and Maura off on her date. With someone. Some man. Jane could pick up too, if she wanted to, and that would be fine as well. She too could go home and let some totally random guy she didn't even know undress her, like whatever worthless goddamned bastard was going to undress Maura tonight. Some rich, well-spoken asshole most likely, who would seduce her with fine wine and his knowledge of high brow art. Jane looked at her watch, 22:57. He'd probably be undressing her right now, if he'd been smart and played his cards right. They'd be on Maura's couch and he'd have his hands all over her skin and he'd be taking off her dress and Maura would be moaning his name. Not Jane's. And it was all _fucking wonderful. _

"Another beer, Jane?"

"Give me ten."

"Haha, you're the man, Rizzoli!"

She could shoot him, of course, Maura's date. He might have the money and charm and influence, but she'd always have that at least. And anyway, chances were, his dick wasn't as big as Jane's either, so she had that too. _I could shoot him in the dick, _she decided, so that was fine. So now she could continue not thinking about Maura and the date who was sliding off her panties right this very second, and keep enjoying her own wonderful night. Jane was thrilled it had all worked out so well.


	7. Chapter 7

**You guys, I have a really important question. Did watching Rizzoli & Isles prompt anyone else into an expensive ghd purchasing decision? Seriously, this show and its hair porn - that shit should be illegal. I literally cannot leave the house without carefully arranged curls anymore. It's like a sickness. **

**Okay, I just had to get that confession off my shoulders. So to speak. **

**This one ended up so long, I split it into two, for the sake of your poor bleeding eyeballs.**

**XOXO and XXX**

* * *

><p>As the weeks wore by Jane began to experience pangs of desperate longing so painful she'd never have thought them possible. If anyone had ever tried to tell her that she'd one day feel this way about the medical examiner, she'd have told them in no uncertain terms that they were batshit crazy, but there you have it. Quiet, plain-spoken, droopy eyed Dr. Davis. <em>God <em>she missed him. He may have been set in his ways, moved at a snail's pace and been entirely unhelpful at least seventy-five percent of the time, but he was a gem, really, compared to Dr. Isles.

The new M.E was just as slow in her own way. Methodical to the point of mania and precise to the extent that Jane would have been convinced it was a farce if it wasn't for the steely glint in Maura's eyes. She flat out refused to make even the smallest of professional estimations or allow her support for any of Jane's hypotheses. _I don't guess, Detective Rizzoli. You'll simply have to wait for my full report. _Just now, Jane had entirely lost her cool with her, in the midst of a fully staffed crime scene. _It's blood, for fuck's sake, Maura! If you're going to tell me you can't recognise blood when you see it, I swear to god I'm going to start spilling some myself! _Maura simply jutted her chin at her and continued to poke swabs around the body. Jane felt a strong hand on her arm before Korsak jerked her away from where she stood, looming angrily over the silent medical examiner.

She tried to protest but he led her away past the crime scene tape and back down to the squad car, haphazardly parked in between the trees. "What the hell, Korsak?"

"You need to relax, Rizzoli. Everyone is antsy today. Everyone wants to catch this guy," he nodded back at the scene, crawling with cops and techs and EMT. "But the doc's not going to come up with any magic answers for you, just cos you bully her." Jane's voice cracked.

"_Bully_ her? Me, bully _her? _What do you think she's doing to me?" she demanded. "If she's not refusing to help me establish cause of death in the middle of my own crime scene, she's showing me up with facts and figures and statistics and the entire history of every knife wound in Massachusetts! It's like I'm some big dumb detective she likes to poke at with sticks, just to watch me dance," she hissed.

"She likes you," shrugged Korsak. Jane stared at him.

"_What?"_

"She _likes _you," he repeated. "She doesn't bother doing that to anyone else. With me, she's all _'certainly Detective, I'll see what I can do,'_ but she doesn't waste any of her big words on me. I think you challenge her and she likes it. That's why she's always taking you on." Jane frowned, starting to feel uneasy at the direction of the conversation.

"Or maybe she's just one of those bitchy types, who only sees other women as a threat," she rolled her eyes. "This is why I hate working with them, for christ's sake. Everyone thinks men are the competitive ones, but they have no _idea."_

"Maybe you're the one who sees her as a threat," Korsak lobbed back at her. "Dr. Davis drove you nuts because he never challenged anything. Now Dr. Isles is challenging everything and you don't like that either, because she challenges _you_." Jane looked away, narrowing her eyes. "That doesn't make it personal though, Jane. Remember how nervous she was meeting you that first day?" he recalled. "I think she likes you because you're a worthy adversary for that big brain of hers. You're just too busy throwing tantrums to see it for what it is."

Jane opened her mouth to protest Korsak's highly inaccurate interpretation of events, but quickly thought better of it. He tsked at her.

"You're on the same side, Rizzoli. The two of you should be friends."

"She doesn't want to be my friend," Jane muttered, glaring at her feet. The older detective looked at her and cocked his head, his expression suddenly morphing into the one he'd make if she was a smelly bedraggled puppy he'd found in a dumpster.

"Awww, Janie doesn't know how to be friends with a girl!" he baby-voiced at her. "Buy her some chocolates, Rizzoli! Do some magazine quizzes together. Invite her for a mani-pedi. It's easy!" Jane went rigid, her face flushing with discomfort.

"Ugh, spare me the details about your dates with Frost," she turned and ducked back under the police tape. "Real helpful, Korsak. Screw you," she threw over her shoulder. Korsak's amused chuckle followed her as she stalked back up the hill.

* * *

><p>In the end Jane took Korsak's advice, for all the good it did her. It had been over three months now, and the constant switching between dispassionate coolness and heated disagreements with Maura was starting to get to her. Co-workers could still be friendly without being <em>friends<em>, for christ's sake. It would make life a lot more pleasant for everyone if they could at least smile and trade casual conversation at times. Besides, any more animosity between them and people would start asking questions. So she tried.

First she began flashing her broadest, friendliest grin at Maura each time they met. Maura only responded as though Jane had bared her teeth at her, warily nodding in response, occasionally with a confused frown on her face. So Jane began to try and engage her in the things she remembered Maura was interested in. _Er, that's a really nice dress, Dr. Isles. Great…uh, stitching. _Maura merely thanked her disinterestedly and continued on her way. Jane bought her a coffee and delivered it to her office. Maura accepted it politely, but didn't so much as touch the damn thing. Once she walked into the morgue and caught the doctor gazing longingly at shoes online, and she tried awkwardly to join in. _Oh, wow, the red ones, Maura…you should definitely-_ but Dr. Isles only looked as though she'd been caught looking at porn during work hours, abruptly closing the screen with a sharp click. _The cause of death was a poly-pharmacy overdose, Detective. I'll ask my intern to send you up the full report as soon as possible. _Jane sighed and walked back out again. The situation was impossible. The M.E was quite clearly prepared to throw Jane's own words back in her face forever. _Not friends, just colleagues. _Jane groaned to herself. _Yeah Maura, I'm a jerk. Couldn't you just punch me in the face and be done with it?_ Jane wondered if Maura was indeed capable of politely and civilly punishing her until the end of her natural life. It certainly seemed that way. _Ugh...women!_

* * *

><p>The realisation finally hit her like a ton of bricks three weeks later, as she stood shivering in the artificial light set up by the crime scene techs in the bottom of the dank grotto. Despite the heat outside, the cave threw out its own icy wet subterranean air, chilling her from the inside out. Frost stood beside her hugging himself, looking as uncomfortable as she felt.<p>

"Creepy place to die," he commented, and Jane shivered despite herself.

"Hell yeah," she agreed. "Don't really know why we're here though. There's got to be a thousand reasons to die in a place like this, all of them way scarier than murder." Frost nodded, rocking back on his heels a little.

"Cavers keep a log book," he explained. "Seems our vic here signed in last night, and no one else. Rained last night, real heavy. Two sets of prints coming in, only one coming out. The other members of the caving society say Ozeki was an experienced caver, and he'd never have entered the caves without checking all his equipment extensively. Looked to them like his rope had been cut."

"Right. How long are we going to have to wait to get the body out though? These caves are supposed to go down for miles," she shivered again at the thought. "Should have brought some coffee at least, goddamnit," Jane grumbled, rubbing at her aching hands and ruefully eyeing up the motley group of cavers passing a large thermos between them.

"Reckon it's going to be a while," Frost rolled his shoulders back, looking almost as impatient as she was. "Apparently, with the rain, the streams down here are overflowing. Means they're going to have to climb down a hell of a ways first, swim through some of the deeper sections and crawl through half a mile of passages about the size of a large cat door," he winced. "Makes me feel claustrophobic just thinking about it." Jane shuddered, eyeing the small crack in the rock the recovery team had disappeared through more than two hours ago.

"We'll be lucky if we don't end up with more bodies," she proclaimed dolefully. "Maura's going to be cracking it," she predicted. "Be no forensic evidence left by the time they drag the dead guy back through the tunnels and through a freakin' stream." One of the cavers looked over in interest.

"Dr. Isles?" he asked, looking overly excited at the mention of the medical examiner. "She's already in there," he nodded over to the crack in the rock. "Said she wanted to see the body _in situ_." Jane gaped at him.

"You took the Chief Medical Examiner of the Boston Police down into some fucking _sinkhole_ in the bottom of the earth?" she demanded, enraged. "Are you insane?"

"She wouldn't take no for an answer!" the tall rangy looking guy protested. "She showed up with her full Cave Diving Certificate and her own gear, then demanded to be shown where to get changed. She's kind of…awesome," he grinned, then coughed sheepishly and looked away as he caught Jane's expression.

"Damn," said Frost, obviously impressed. Jane wanted to punch someone. _What the hell is she doing? Doesn't she know how dangerous this is? That's so like her - obsessive, stubborn, goddamn little-_

"There they are!"

One by one, slowly scrambling out of the crack in the rocky floor, the search team emerged. A body bag, thoroughly duct taped up to make it more streamlined, was boosted up and deposited unceremoniously on the ground. EMT swooped in to load it onto a stretcher and it was only by watching who reached out to sign the release form that Jane figured out which of the helmet wearing cavers was the M.E - although as she marched closer, she reflected that only one of the wetsuit-clad bodies was adamantly feminine enough to mark it out as belonging to Maura Isles. The doctor pulled off her helmet and rubbed at the marks the dive mask had left on her face, reaching back to pull out her damp ponytail from the neck of her suit. Jane was three quarters of a second from berating her for the unnecessary danger she'd put herself in when she stopped short. Maura's face was glowing, a huge smile spread across her face. One of the cavers said something Jane couldn't hear, which made the M.E laugh, and - _really? Did Dr. Maura Isles just high-five someone? That's extremely…awkward._ Jane stood by with a surprised smirk, until Maura looked over and saw her. Excusing herself, she walked over to talk to the detective.

"You would tell me if you were spider-man, wouldn't you, Dr. Isles?" Jane couldn't quite cover her grin as she gazed at the damp and dishevelled woman before her. _Maura Isles: chief medical examiner, clothes horse, giant nerd...and adventure sports nut? _Maura seemed to be struggling to replace her gleeful expression with her usual Jane-related game-face, but she was failing.

"No, I don't think I would," she returned, an oddly familiar sparkle crossing her features. "I will however, admit to the occasional desire for some good, old fashioned spelunking," she looked Jane directly in the eye, making her flush in confusion.

"Uh…I-"

"Speleology, Jane," Maura looked way too pleased with herself. "The study of caves. Spelunking is a term for caving coined by the writer Clay Perry in the 1940's, although it lost favour as a term for serious cavers during the sixties due to its association with amateurs, many of whom-" Jane let her go, finding herself too lost in her enjoyment of Maura's obvious excitement to protest at her lecture. Gone was the impassive automaton of the last four months, and in its place was the Maura she'd first met. Flush-cheeked and a little breathless, glowing with enthusiasm and a hint of mischief in her eyes. Jane steadied herself. After months of being shut out in the cold, she felt a sense of relief flood her at the sudden thaw. She was damned if she was going to let Maura retreat again once her adrenaline wore off.

"And you, Maura Isles?" she interrupted, smiling down at the still rambling doctor. "When did you start indulging in activities that required the wearing of neoprene?" As Maura launched into another breathless spiel about Sardinia and the Nullabor, the Yucatan Peninsula, single rope techniques and vertical climbs, the detective just watched her, nodding and smiling like an idiot. It had only taken Jane one night of passion and months of constantly working together for it finally to become clear to her. The dorky cave dwelling guy was right: Maura Isles was _awesome_. _Actually kind of fucking amazing in fact_. Jane stood and marvelled at her as she truly considered the person before her for the first time. Ridiculously, immensely intelligent and yet flawlessly fashion-conscious. Born to be a rich idle princess yet working tirelessly up to her elbows in blood and gore every single day, fighting for justice. Fearsomely disciplined and yet raving like a club kid on amphetamines about her passions. _Smart, complicated, annoying, beautiful, awkward, obsessive, elegant, tough, stubborn, refined, dorky - _Jane paused, allowing her earlier memories of Maura to resurface briefly - _passionate, wild, sweet, funny, bold, gorgeous, fucking sexy- _she reined them in again quickly, pushing away the unbidden image of the doctor sweating and writhing beneath her, whispering _fuck me_ in Jane's ear.

That was exactly where she'd gone wrong with Maura before, she decided. She'd never paused to see her as a whole, complex, real person. _I objectified her, _Jane realised. First as an object of lust, then of fear, then of pity. It was true, all of it - Maura _was _sexy, she _was_ a kind of threat to Jane's precariously hard won sense of equilibrium, and she _was_ a lonely, awkward figure as well. But none of that defined her. Maura Isles - sexy, scary, lonely, and everything else in between - taken as a whole, was every kind of amazing. Jane thought about her own life, her own battles, her own…loneliness. _I want to understand her, _Jane discovered in a rush. _I want to be her friend. I want this person in my life. She's the thing I'm missing._

From that moment on, Jane was resolved. No more objectifying, she was done with that now. She would get to know Maura and Maura would get to know her, and they would become friends. She was adamant. And so the wooing of Dr. Isles began.


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh, and also you guys - I'm just about to head off on a hard earned holiday to Indonesia for two weeks! Hopefully I might get another chapter up before I go, but also, I might not. **

**BUT because writing stories about hot lady lovin' is definitely up there on my list of ways to relax, I'm sure to be writing while I'm away...y'know...pool side...in hammocks...with cocktails...that kind of thing, but I might not have much in the way of internet access. So either you'll still get a chapter or two while I'm gone, or I'll post them all up when I return. **

**Spare a thought for me...while I'm suffering terribly...with all the sunbathing...and the sightseeing...and the snorkelling...**

**(and the trying not to get monkey rabies)**

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><p>Of course, when it came to being wooed Maura wasn't having a bar of it. Jane had anticipated that. The next time she spoke to Maura, the ice was back, this time with reinforcements, to make up for her adrenaline fuelled slip-up in the dark of the cave. Jane ignored all that. She began to find a hundred excuses to slip down to the morgue or to bug Dr. Isles in her office during the day. The M.E stuck to her usual tactics - cool, precise and professional - and Jane just bulldozed right over the top of it all. <em>Maura's not the only one who can ramble, <em>she grinned to herself.

She'd come downstairs and plonk herself on the chair opposite the doctor with her feet on the desk, or boost herself up onto one of the morgue benches as Maura worked and just, talk at her. She bounced off all her thoughts and ideas about cases, venturing back and forth through the catalogue of theories in her mind, as neatly as if Maura were in fact the blank, silent wall that she seemed to be impersonating. She bitched about Frost and Korsak, filled her in on all the precinct gossip that had come her way over the years, complained about her mother and vented her worries about Frankie (trying too hard) and Tommy (not trying at all). She talked about baseball, basketball, football, the goddamn weather even. Maura largely appeared to ignore her, occasionally sighing or huffing, and even asking her directly if she didn't have any work of her own to do, but Jane just barged on regardless.

She learned to savour the tiny battles she won. She'd posit ludicrous theories and make sweeping judgements about cases causing Maura to finally cave and pick apart her argument with devastating conclusiveness, until the little spark of annoyance would arrive in her eyes as she realised the detective was just playing with her. Another time, when Maura was clearly borderline deranged with hunger and exhaustion in the midst of an exceptionally long day, she actually accepted Jane's proffered half of her tuna salad and crackers, with an almost inaudible _thank you. _She once caught Maura looking secretly amused as she peppered her version of Frankie's first day in uniform with impersonations of her brother's wide-eyed naivety in the face of Boston's meaner streets.

But still Maura wouldn't bite. She volunteered nothing back, barely seeming to grudgingly accept Jane's suddenly ubiquitous presence in her daily life. So Jane stepped it up. She sought out more and more ridiculously exotic kinds of chocolates and snuck them onto Maura's desk. She defaced all of Maura's shoe covers, so that the sternly silent medical examiner would have to conduct her autopsies with a choice of smiley faces, hearts and flowers, or crudely drawn penises displayed upon her toes. She left bowls of her mother's gnocchi and lasagna in the bar fridge tucked inside Maura's office. And every Friday she ended her spiel with "So, we'll see you at the Robber later tonight, yeah?" as if it were a given, rather than an invitation that Maura had politely declined every week since she'd started. Maura of course, never showed up.

* * *

><p>The first time Jane and Maura faced each other across a restaurant dining table was on the way home from a scene. They'd gotten the call out just before lunchtime while she, Korsak and Frost had been gathered around in the morgue talking through the unclear cause of death of a local teenager with the examiner, and Frost had simply shrugged. "I'll drive."<p>

The scene had turned out to be what looked like a fairly straightforward murder-suicide, and a particularly grim one at that. Processing the scene took up the rest of the day, and on the way back to the precinct, Korsak, who'd taken the wheel, insisted on stopping at a burger joint, using the threat of his imminent death from starvation to march the three of them inside with him.

Maura looked deeply incongruous seated carefully in the green vinyl booth, her hands neatly folded in her lap to avoid touching the sticky plastic red-and-white checked table cloth. Her hunger must have won out in the end however, and Jane had to look away to keep from laughing as the medical examiner cautiously dissected her burger and fries with a knife and fork. As usual the conversation flew around her while she kept herself neatly disengaged.

"Shit!" Frost almost knocked over Jane's glass of coke in his rush to stand up. "I have a-" he paused, his eyes flicking from his watch to his colleagues. "A thing," he finished lamely. "I gotta go." Jane raised her eyebrow at him.

"A thing, Frost? How very exciting for you. Please, go ahead, we don't want to keep you from your _thing._" Frost grinned at her.

"A date, Rizzoli. You remember them, right?" Jane's eyes flickered instantly to Maura's fingers toying with her napkin.

"Nope," she replied, keeping her voice resolutely cheerful. "And neither does most of Boston Homicide. Get out of here, before she changes her mind."

"Hey, let's not make hasty assumptions," Korsak protested. "Are we sure it's a she?" Frost shrugged, used to Korsak's little digs.

"It is tonight. Hey, can you drop me off? It's on your way." Korsak looked miffed, but he caught Jane's eye. As much as he still resented his ex-partner's new partner, he mostly stuck to good behaviour, convinced that Jane would soon make the request to switch back to working with him anyway. He stood up, making a show of his reluctance.

"You two be alright to get back to the precinct, while I help out Romeo here?" Jane nodded.

"Think we'll cope. Thanks Korsak." The two men chucked bills down on the table and left, leaving her alone with Maura. This was going to be a good opportunity to really try and talk to the doctor. No dead bodies, no colleagues, it was perfect- _or not. _Maura was standing up as well.

"I have to get back to it," her voice was resolute. "I'm going to have two bodies waiting for me back there." Jane scrambled to her feet.

"Maura, it's seven-thirty in the evening. They're not going to be any less dead tomorrow." Both women reached for their wallets, and since Maura wasn't replying, Jane just shrugged. "I'll walk back with you. I've got to pick up my car anyway."

"I'll get a cab," replied the doctor softly. Jane sighed.

"Then I'll share it with you." They stepped outside the front door of the restaurant to find themselves immediately assaulted by driving rain. "Oh, gross!" Jane practically squealed, as the cold water pelted her face and almost instantly soaked through her summer shirt to her skin. She waved out to a cab, but everyone in the greater Boston area had seemingly leapt for a taxi as the skies had opened, and all were occupied. She turned to look at Maura and began to laugh despite herself. Maura's previously neat hair was hanging in wet rivulets down her neck and the expression on her face was incredibly pissed off. Dr. Isles did not like to be unprepared. Apparently accepting her fate - or just refusing to let Jane stand there and stare at her any longer - Maura's shoulders dropped and she began to stride down the dark street, rain drenching her expensive clothing. Jane kept pace with her.

There was something exhilarating about rain like that. After days of heat, the cool downpour felt almost cleansing. Jane felt like a little kid, excited by the torrential outburst from above, tipping her head back and letting the water rush over her skin. She knew she probably looked like crap; her hair was soaked, which meant the second she got inside it would start to frizz. She looked sideways at Maura and her heart almost stopped. Maura's soaked shirt was clinging to her every curve, the water rendering it almost transparent. Jane could see the outline of her bra and the slender bones of her hips as she moved. Her drenched skirt looked moulded to her body and her bare legs, forearms, throat and collarbones were gleaming wet, shining under the street lamps in the fading evening light. Jane swallowed, twice, suddenly understanding the appeal of wet tshirt competitions. Her eyes flickered up to Maura's face, slick with water, mascara smudging beneath her eyelashes. _Don't, Jane. Friend Maura, remember?_

"Maur-" she started, and Maura's eyes darted towards her hesitantly.

"Janie!" a familiar voice rang out from behind her. "Oh my god, get in here!" Jane froze and Maura looked at her quizzically, her eyes sliding off to the side to see the pulled over car with the window wound down and the woman squinting out of it. "Hurry up! You're getting soaked!" the voice shouted the blindingly obvious and Jane groaned.

"C'mon Maura," she relented. She turned, to make sure the doctor was following her and almost banged into her, finding her closer on her heels than she'd expected. She blanched at the near contact and looked Maura in the eye, her voice lowered. "I apologise fully, in advance," she mumbled, and opened the back door of the car, ducking in out of the rain and sliding across the seats to allow Maura to follow her in.

"Jane Rizzoli, what are you thinking, walking around in weather like this? You're going to catch a pneumonia and then who'll have to look after you? Me, that's who! It's not enough I have to worry about you running around after dangerous criminals all the time, now I have to add pneumonia to my list? Why can't you be sensible, like your brother? You don't see him out in the rain without an umbrella, do you?"

"No, because _Frankie_ is probably tucked up in the precinct wearing the dry socks and eating the hot meal you just dropped off to him, right Ma?" Jane shot back. Four seconds and her mother was already on at her. A huff emanated from the front seat.

"The last time I tried to do the same for you, you told security I was a mentally imbalanced stalker and not to let me in! Your own mother! Here I am, all alone in the world with only your father for company - not a single grandchild in sight - and you don't even want to let me look after the babies I've got! _Fifteen_ hours, I was in labour with you, and this is the thanks I get?"

"I know, Ma. _Thank you_. I appreciate it, I really do. Can you just, drive, please?" She risked a sidelong glance at Maura, and to her surprise Maura was looking back at her, an expression of frank amusement on her face. Jane frowned at her. "Maura, meet my mother, Saint Angela Mary Rizzoli of South Boston." Her mother snorted. Maura opened her mouth to respond, as the car swung back out into the traffic, but the woman in the front seat cut in first.

"So _you're_ Maura! I thought you must be. Jane's always talking about you at dinner. _Dr. Isles, this, Dr. Isles that. _ I'm so glad she has a friend like you," she beamed. "So pretty and well-dressed! Why can't _you_ be more like that?" her voice hardened as her eyes snapped back to her daughter who'd slumped back in her seat in embarrassment. "I bet Dr. Isles doesn't have any problems finding men, do you honey?"

"I…well, no," Maura answered honestly, pushing a wet strand of hair back from her face earning a glare from Jane. Maura only smiled. "I'm sure Jane doesn't either, Mrs Rizzoli. She does work in a very male-dominated industry, so statistically her chances of meeting fit, healthy, gainfully employed males of the right age group, actually exceed that of most women." Jane's jaw dropped.

"Maura, please don't-"

"See Jane, Dr. Isles is right! You just gotta try a little harder, wear some lipstick once in a while. I mean, would it honestly kill you to wear a skirt?" Jane groaned.

"Yeah, Ma, I think it actually would. You know I go to work to catch criminals, right? Not a husband?"

"Dr. Isles will help you out, won't you sweetie? Take you shopping maybe, give you some makeup tips?" This time Maura actually laughed, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as Jane's eyes flashed with murderous intent.

"I'd love to, Mrs Rizzoli. I believe I would see it as a service to the public, just to get her out of those horribly masculine boots she seems to favour."

"Oh _c'mon!_ Maura, stop-"

"Dr. Isles you're a doll. You're an angel, isn't she Jane?" Jane rolled her eyes. _You have no idea._ "I'm so glad she has you, honey," her mother's eyes were practically misting as she looked back at Maura in the rearview mirror. "I know you'll help her out. I can tell. You're every bit as beautiful and smart as Jane's been telling us."

* * *

><p>Jane slammed the door. "Bye Ma," she gritted her teeth, shrugging her shoulders uncomfortably in her wet shirt. Maura stood beside her and waved as Angela drove away. After everything, the rain had finally stopped. "Argh!" she exploded. "That woman!" Maura looked up at her and Jane flushed again, despite the chill of her soaked clothing. <em>Seriously, how am I supposed to cope with this? She still looks half-naked and yet she's looking at me like I'm a big cuddly bear she won at a fair.<em>

"She's wonderful," Maura said simply. "She's warm and caring and she obviously loves you," her voice trailed off, hesitantly. "She's the opposite of my mother," she volunteered wistfully. Jane stayed quiet, not wanting to jump on her with questions, but not wanting to stop her either. _Holy shit, she's talking to me. _Maura started to walk up the steps towards the precinct and Jane followed her.

"Yeah, well, I bet your mother is all elegant and refined, just like you are," she slipped in the compliment for the pleasure of the tiny twitch of Maura's lips, as Jane held the door open for her. "Not manipulative and humiliating like mine," she rolled her eyes skywards. _Beautiful and smart. Really Ma? Have I ever even said those words about Dr. Isles to you? Oh, probably. Still, a little discretion, jesus christ. _Maura waited for her as they both cleared security. That was a first.

"Mothers always know what buttons to push," her tone was wry, and Jane wondered if Maura had been reading her mind just then. "So when shall we plan our shopping trip?" the doctor smirked at her as they got into the lift. "You know, I think I have a lipstick that's just your shade," she mused. "I'll bring it in tomorrow and we can have a makeover session when you come down and bug me at lunch," her tone was teasing, but Jane couldn't help her smile at the casual assertion of the time Maura had just announced they'd spend together.

"Yeah? Just as well you work in a morgue Dr. Isles, cause it'll be over _my dead body," _she growled lightly. The lift stopped at the entrance to the car park. She paused, holding the door for a moment, looking back at the other woman. "Goodnight Maura," she said quietly. Maura met her eyes and smiled.

"See you tomorrow, Jane."


	9. Chapter 9

**Um, hi. According to my fic stats page, some of my readers live in Indonesia. The following message is for you: If by chance you are in the market for gaymarrying an Antipodean and letting them live with you forever, CALL ME. I am in love with Bali and I never ever ever want to leave. **

**For everyone else: Argh…this place! From where I'm sitting right now I can see banana palms, rice paddies, frangipani, coconut palms, AN ACTUAL MONKEY, two different kinds of butterflies, and basically the most all round spectacular scenery ever. Can we all move here please and start a commune? (Not the shared hemp-clothing cultish variety, just the kind where we all drink piles of Bintang and squee about Sasha Alexander's boobs a lot. You in?)**

**With that in mind OMG please excuse the following chapter! It was 90% written before I left, back in my grey, rainy, homeland - not here in paradise - and as you read it, that will become extremely obvious. **

**WARNING: EXTREME LESBIAN PROCESSING AHEAD. Jesus christ Jane! She really has her head up her own arse at times, I'm really sorry about this you guys.**

**All I can say is that I want to be absolutely clear with you right now that all this hardcore, explicit, deep, penetrative…processing is necessary for the plot. I would never write such a thing if it wasn't relevant to the storyline. **

**(FROM NOW ON I WILL ONLY WRITE FUN FLUFFY THINGS FROM MY HAMMOCK, I PROMISE.)***

***after the part with the serial killer, obvs.**

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><p>"I hate you Maura," Jane hissed as other woman's laughter spilled out into the otherwise silent morgue.<p>

"Jane!" Maura's hand flew up to her chest, her attempt at looking wounded ruined by her occasionally erupting giggle. "Don't _say_ that. You're exaggerating." Jane's rage began to evaporate as a tiny snort of laughter escaped her despite herself. Maura's giggle was really something else. It transformed her features and her eyes danced with mischief, making it impossible to stay mad at her for long - even when Jane had a really, really good reason. She narrowed her eyes at her friend.

"I do, I hate you," she protested. "Why the hell would you try and set me up with Morris Zanelli, of all people?" Maura shook her head frantically.

"I didn't set you up! He _asked_ me if you were single, and I said yes. You know I can't lie, Jane, and it was a direct question. I couldn't help it!"

"Oh, really, Maura? And could you also not help telling him I was interested in older men, and that he should ask me out on a date while standing in the middle of the squad room with a gigantic bouquet of flowers in his hands?" Jane went rigid again as she recalled the scene. Maura gasped, looking truly pained for a second before her laughter peeled out again.

"He did that? Oh, Jane…" she winced apologetically. "He asked me, and I realised I couldn't say for sure that you _didn't _like older men. You're always saying the guys you meet are too immature for you, so I thought the likelihood of your dating someone older wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility."

"Morris Zanelli wears a toupee, Maura! A very shiny, mismatched toupee! There's older and then there's just…wrong!" she spluttered. "And what about the bouquet? As he presented it to me - while I was in the middle of a debrief with Crowe and Lieutenant Hoff, by the way - I distinctly heard him say '_Dr. Isles said they were your favourite'. _Explain _that_ for me Maura, would you?" she gestured to the giant bunch of white flowers tossed unceremoniously on the bench beside her. Maura peered over at them from behind her microscope and frowned.

"They're gardenias," she explained. Jane just looked at her.

"Gardenias? Really? They're my favourite flower? Since when?" Maura shrugged.

"Well, since we've never specifically discussed your particular taste in flowers Jane, obviously when he asked me I said I wasn't sure. But then I remembered about how I switched perfumes three months ago and you said it was the best thing you'd ever smelled, like a vacation in Hawaii. You said that the morgue had never smelled so good and you kept-"

"Yeah, Maura, I remember," Jane found it unnerving how Maura seemed to have a perfect recall at her fingertips of every single conversation they'd ever had in their entire year of working together. It was a skill that was both annoying and unsettling, all things considered. Though it was kind of flattering in a strange kind of way - not to mention useful, at times. _Like being friends with an extremely well-dressed filing cabinet_. "So?" she prodded.

"Oh! Well the top note of that perfume is gardenia, so I figured at the very least you'd wind up with something good to smell. Other than me, that is," Maura teased her. Jane shot her a look.

"Yeah, well, thanks to you, I also have a standing invitation to Mario's Diner, any evening in the forseeable future that I'm not busy with all of the excuses I just made up on the spot right now to not hurt his feelings."

"Ah."

"Ah. And now I have to go back upstairs to work with fifteen other police officers who all think Morris Zanelli is my hot new play toy. So. To conclude," Jane pointed a firm finger of rebuke at her friend, "I hate you." She slid off the bench and back to her feet with a loud sigh.

"You _love_ me," Maura corrected her as the detective turned to leave. Jane swung back around, taking in the playful smirk on her friend's face, which didn't quite hide the small hint of worry in her eyes. Jane made a show of her exasperation.

"Yeah. I do. Enjoy your gardenias," she left the flowers on the bench for the doctor and headed for the lifts, steeling herself to face the music.

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><p>Looking back, she was never quite sure exactly when that particular feeling had snuck in there. She'd never been the type to love anyone quickly or easily. When she did love, she loved hard, so the flipside of that meant she always took her time, making sure that the other person was really worth it. And the truth of it was, a lot of people just weren't. She loved her family of course, but when she discounted the first rush of the hormone induced "<em>in love<em>" feeling, Jane thought she'd probably truly loved only two of her ex-boyfriends. Christina Jones, also made the list, as well as James Schulman, her best friend from kindergarten all the way through until the ninth grade, when he'd moved with his family to Wisconsin. Korsak was also on the list. She'd never told him, but she was pretty sure he knew - even if he had been acting weird with her lately, right up until he'd headed off on his vacation last week. She had a warm spot for Frost of course - he was a good guy - but even though they spent their whole days together, sometimes literally under siege, she'd only known him a little over a year and a half. It took way, way longer than that to know someone enough to start to love them. Or it should. And yet here was Maura, still in so many ways an unknown entity in her life, their relationship fraught with complications, weird boundaries and things they never talked about and yet Jane just…loved her, helplessly, with no apparent choice in the matter.

Maura was just so…_Maura. _There was no one else like her. When she'd finally started to thaw towards the detective, it hadn't been entirely instantaneous. Jane could only see now in hindsight how much she'd hurt the other woman, and how hard it was for the doctor to begin to trust her. So it was right, of course, for Maura to only open her heart slowly to the woman who was fighting hard to become her friend. But Jane was determined to be trustworthy, and resolved on making it up to her for having fucked things up so considerably at the start, and so slowly, piece by piece, Maura had begun to reveal herself. _Maura's mom is a stone cold bitch, Maura speaks like an encyclopedia when she's uncomfortable or excited, Maura stores her lunch in the dead fridge? _She found herself revelling at each tiny offering, every one of them another small validation that Jane was not in fact a sharp and dangerous person who must be repelled, but instead someone capable of redemption, of warmth, of friendship. Each small revelation shone another pinprick of light onto the woman hidden beneath Maura's carefully put together surface, until Jane could see her glowing. And that was it. She loved her.

The more she loved her, the more their unspoken rules about their friendship chaffed at her. For one thing, they never spent time together outside of work. Sure, more often than not that meant they both stayed late at the precinct, mooching around with excuses - or no excuses at all, just a pile of snacks and conversation - and god knows they spent enough time together on crime scenes as it was. But they never saw each other technically outside of work. Because that might mean dinner and a movie, going to a bar, or hanging out at each other's houses. And it wasn't so much that Jane was afraid that something _not_ so friend-like might happen - that night was so carefully guarded by both of them it felt more like a dream she'd once had, than an actual thing they'd done together - and more that it might feel _reminiscent_ of that night, thus reminding Maura of Jane's betrayal, her asshole tendencies and her all round basic unworthiness.

So the weekend would come and if neither of them were on call they'd both talk about their plans as if they were occurring on completely different planes from each other, rather than within the same city limits. Maura's weekend would usually involve a date (which was fine of course, _totally_ fine_)_ or some kind of unspeakably nerdy activity with one of her old Boston acquaintances (which strangely always made Jane feel more resentful and jealous than the current date of the week had), or possibly just a quiet weekend alone, doing her mysterious Maura down-time activities (Jane suspected fashion magazines and science journals in equal measure). Jane's weekends, on the other hand, were almost exclusively taken up by family and sports. Predictable perhaps, but so what? She loved what she loved.

It wasn't as if the rule was something they'd discussed out loud and agreed upon; they couldn't discuss the fact that they had any rules, period, because that would mean talking about that _other_ thing. The thing they'd done that was not to be mentioned. So the leisure time rule was just something that had happened somewhere along the way, that now they were stuck with, just like their other entirely unspoken rule: No touching.

It was probably easy enough for Maura, Jane figured. If she wasn't actively trying to seduce you then Dr. Isles was quite physically reserved. She'd admitted to Jane that the hardest part of her medical training had been getting over her mental block of having to touch other people - strangers, warm and alive, reactive, messy and complicated - and touch them intimately at that. It hadn't come naturally to her, and while she'd gotten much better at it over the years, it was a relief really, now that all her patients were dead. There was no one to judge her, to induce her awkwardness or to behave unpredictably while she worked. So no touching was quite normal for Maura.

Jane however, touched people a lot. It was the most Italian part of her; she waved her arms around when she spoke, her gestures often more eloquent than her words and she grabbed people, constantly, warmly. She touched their arms, took their hands in hers, hugged the recently bereaved whose dead friends and family members she was investigating - all of them strangers, at least at first. Maura was not a stranger, not at all, and yet Jane could not bring herself to touch her.

She tried not to think about it most of the time. Did she want to touch Maura? She didn't _not_ want to touch her. Maura's skin cried out for it sometimes; she was so soft, she smelled good, and Jane cared about her…of course she wanted to touch her. It would be okay if she did; she could just lay her hand on her arm to emphasise a point, or elbow her in the ribs when she joked. It would be no more than she'd do with Frankie, or with Frost. And yet it was different, of course it was. Because Jane and Maura…because Maura and Jane…well, it wouldn't do to talk about it. Or think about it. She didn't _want_ to think about it.

She did though. Occasionally. She'd fight it and fight it and then when it wouldn't go away, she'd carefully take the time to open the locked box of her feelings and take a look inside. She wasn't stupid. She knew. What do you get when you take _love_ and you add in _attraction? A great big fucking mess, that's what. _Out of respect for their friendship and in accordance with Maura's obvious wishes, Jane refused to linger over it, indulge it, or wallow in it, but she couldn't switch off her attraction to Dr. Isles. Not when she'd known her…like that. Not after a night like that. It invaded her dreams sometimes, waking her up aching and wet, her back arching up off the mattress with the memory of Maura's body, her sounds, her movements, her touch. No, Jane couldn't turn it off, but she could choose to sidestep it, to look the other way, to decide it wasn't important.

What was important, was Maura. Her trust in Jane, her carefully offered friendship, her warmly returned affection. What they had was better than any relationship Jane had ever had before, with a boyfriend, a close work partner, a family member, or a friend. Maura was her _best_ friend. The fact that Maura - cautious, insular, oddball Maura - let herself be drawn out of her shell by Jane felt like a gift she wasn't even sure she deserved. Jane was this…mess, flailing around, unable to have a personal life, her head full of dark noise, unsure of who she even was anymore…and yet here was Maura Isles, this beautiful, intelligent, accomplished, sophisticated, basically superior in every way human being and she _loved _Jane. Her face lit up in fact, every time the detective walked in the room. Just at the very fact of her presence. Jane felt ridiculously proud of the fact. Proud to the point of tingling, proud to the point she used the childish phrase 'my best friend' out loud more than she'd cared to admit, proud to the point that she knew, deep down, without a qualm, that if things had worked out differently, _I'd have swung for Maura Isles in a heartbeat. I'd be 'out' for her, fuck yeah I would. I'd walk around all day with a goddamn t-shirt saying 'Jane Rizzoli is the biggest lesbian in Beantown' if Maura was mine. I'd shove it in all their faces. Gay pride parade through Boston PD - I am totally doing it with Dr. Isles and you all just wish you were me. In a heartbeat I would._

She knew it frustrated the hell out of Maura, that Jane wouldn't just admit it out loud. What was more, she knew it was behind that morning's stunt with Morris Zanelli. _Say it Jane. Say you'd rather date women. I am a scientist and I trust the evidence. _But Jane wouldn't. Couldn't. Must _not_ say it. It was still relatively true, in actual fact that Jane was basically straight. Sort of straight. Well, more or less, anyway. But it was equally true that nothing in her life, before or since, had even approached what she'd felt that night with Maura. And eventually, over the course of their friendship Jane had slowly come to be okay with that, on a certain level. Of course it had been amazing; Maura was amazing. She'd been one goddamn lucky son of a bitch that night and she knew it. There was no real possibility of shame anymore in the idea of people knowing, if knowing meant they knew that Maura Isles had slummed it with Jane Rizzoli…_slummed it and loved it, thank you very much_. But hiding behind an apparent fear of her own sexuality was the best smokescreen she had. The last perfect protection.

Friendship she could do. Friendship was easy, or easier anyway. Friendship required a degree of intimacy that pushed her to the margins of her comfort zone, but not quite beyond. Yes, she had to talk about her feelings. Yes, she owed her friends a certain right to nosy into the corners of her life, to worry about her safety and enquire after her mental health. But Jane Rizzoli still belonged to no one but herself. All her final decisions about how to act and who to be, well they were her own. And the biggest decision she'd made in recent years, the only one in which she fully trusted her own judgement, was a secret one, one that she talked around the edges of but never fully admitted to anyone: Relationships were out for Jane. Serious relationships anyway. She could date people casually, have sex with people if the situation arose, even get to know them to a certain extent, but anything more just wasn't possible right now. She wasn't sure if it ever would be. To pull someone in, to allow them to make a serious claim on her, well that would be a lie.

She'd always known that being a police officer would be hard on her relationships. Whoever she was with would always worry about her safety and with good reason. Of course, in the past she'd always found a way around it - mostly by dating cops, who while they weren't thrilled with their girlfriend also being in the line of fire, at least understood. But then Hoyt had happened.

Before Hoyt, Jane had at least believed in a certain illusion of her own safety. She'd always known that disaster was possible - she'd seen more than one colleague taken down in the line of duty - but like the idea of getting cancer or being hit by a bus, you just never really believed it would happen to you. Until it did. Now it was a reality...and it would always be a reality. He might be behind bars, but every single day Jane woke up to the knowledge that Hoyt existed. That he was out there, a violent, sadistic serial killer, who was cunning, resourceful, connected and who'd made perfectly sure during his trial that Jane should know that he was going to spend his every moment inside dreaming about her, and what he'd do to her when he got the chance. Not if, _when. _Jane had been responsible for taking him down, so she knew his M.O perfectly. It meant that anyone she ever loved was going to be in his sights as well, and it just wasn't something that she could allow anyone else to sign up for.

Beyond that, well… Hoyt hadn't just scarred her hands. He'd done something to her mind as well, she knew that. Something that hadn't gone away, despite Jane being a model patient afterwards and doing all the right things. She'd been debriefed, obviously, by the workplace psychologist. She'd sought out her own counselling too, secretly, when the panic attacks and the nightmares wouldn't go away. She'd traded Korsak - who she loved and trusted - for a new partner, because she needed a fresh start with someone who wasn't also having flashbacks each time they looked at her hands. She'd taken time off work at the start, to be cared for by her family, and then she'd come back as soon as she'd been medically cleared, to face down the fear and reclaim her life back. But the dark noise still remained. It hadn't consumed her, but it was just enough to make her doubt almost everything about herself. Everything inside her had been realigned, just enough to throw her completely off balance. It was getting close to two years on from her attack and Jane felt like the person she used to be had died that day. The person she was now, was new, just born, and she wasn't at all sure who that person would turn out to be. Weaker or stronger, better or worse, lucky or cursed.

So relationships were out. Anyone that loved her would be in danger, but they'd also be in a relationship with someone damaged and incomplete, someone as yet unknown, and so far, untrustworthy. She couldn't do that to anyone. _I especially couldn't do that to Maura. No matter what weird things she makes me feel sometimes. _So Jane let her best friend in the world, erroneously believe she was still a completely freaked out closet case. It was easier that way. There'd be nothing for Maura to worry about then, no hint of the fact that Jane's feelings for her, were…complicated. Because if Maura knew that Jane was less worried about the idea of being with a woman and more worried about the idea that she was fragmented, damaged and a danger to herself and others, then that would involve a hell of a lot more talking, talking Jane was not prepared or equipped to do.

Luckily Maura seemed equally as keen not to discuss their rather less than platonic beginnings. Early in their friendship Jane used to wonder about how Maura really felt about her, but she quickly came to realise it was pretty clear. As far as Jane recalled it, Maura had definitely enjoyed their night together every bit as much as Jane had…but the day afterward she'd unhappily met the real Jane Rizzoli, the new post-Hoyt version - the jerk, the closed-off, selfish, casually cruel, scaredy-cat - and any shadow of a sexual or romantic attachment had simply dissolved for her in that moment. Maura had been repulsed and hurt by her crappy behaviour over the months that had followed, and it was only due to Jane's relentlessness and her own good grace that she'd even considered a friendship with the detective at all. And yet after a while, Jane's friendship had come to be important to her - Maura had said as much, so that was that. Friendship was more than Jane deserved after all. And Maura hardly suffered for lack of romantic attention. Men dripped off her, hanging around her like flies, and Jane, unhappily, knew exactly why. But it was only right, of course. Maura deserved to be happy and to be in love, and one day she'd meet someone who could do that for her. Jane would hate him until she was sick, but she knew that when the time came she'd step out of the way.

* * *

><p>"Jane," Maura's voice disturbed her from her reverie. She looked up to see the squad room had gradually emptied around her, and she was still staring blindly at the pile of papers on the desk before her, as the day came to a close. Maura stood before her, oblivious to the fact that she'd been largely the cause of Jane's brain haze. She moved over to lean against Jane's desk and smiled down at her, her expression apologetic. "I <em>could<em> set you up, you know," she offered. Jane frowned. It was not quite the apology she'd expected.

"Uh, no offence Maura, but if Morris is your idea of my perfect man, I think I'm going to politely decline on that one," Jane raised an eyebrow at her. Maura raised one finger and rushed on.

"Not Morris. Hooking you up with him was definitely not my intention," Maura looked sincere. "But then it got me thinking. I could set you up. I have a wide range of interesting connections and I have an eye for quality, of course. Besides, I know you…your interests and habits and hobbies and likes and dislikes," she rattled off. She paused and then frowned. "I think you sell yourself short, Jane. You deserve a lot better than the men you seem to meet. So why not let me help you?" Jane sighed. This wasn't really what she needed today of all days.

"Maura…I'm not really looking for a relationship at the moment. I don't know if you noticed but we're in the middle of three major murder investigations, plus a suspicious death. I barely have time to brush my teeth, let alone get into anything with anyone." Maura pouted at her, the way she always did when Jane rebuffed her.

"I'm not trying to marry you off Jane, I just think you could do with a little distraction. Just…dinner out now and then…having some fun, for once. I can't even remember the last time you went on a real date that actually ended up with-" she paused and a hint of colour came into her cheeks. _Maura _had probably been Jane's last date that had ended quite the way she'd been about to describe. "I just think you deserve to be happy, Jane," she concluded briskly.

_No offence, but I don't need a man to make me happy. _The retort was on the tip of her tongue but to Jane's ears all of a sudden, that sounded really accusatory, or really…gay. "Fine," she heard herself huff instead. "But I have full veto rights. And no…toupees, alright Dr. Isles?" Maura smiled at her, obviously pleased.

"Wonderful. I'll keep a close eye out, and when I find someone perfect for you, I'll let you know." Jane tried not to look too sceptical.

"Sounds…great, Maura."

"Oh, it will be," she promised eagerly. "You know, Jane…" she paused, her tone mild. "We really should do something, outside of a crime scene, sometime soon. It would be fun, don't you think?" Jane smiled at her friend.

"Sure," she said weakly. "That'd be great."

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><p>Maura was a skilfully covert operator, Jane would certainly give her that. As she pulled in to park behind the EMT vehicles and media vans on what was supposed to be her night off, Jane found herself reflecting on Maura's dual offer, only now putting them side by side. <em>I'll get you a boyfriend, and then you and I can hang out together, safely. <em>"Well played Dr. Isles," Jane muttered to herself as she reached over to grab her blazer from the back seat. She couldn't fault Maura's logic, but she remained dubious as to whether her friend's plan would actually work the way the doctor was anticipating. She checked her reflection in the rear view mirror and groaned. _Fucking Frankie! _Her nose wasn't just cracked, it looked bent, thanks to her brother's clumsy attempts to out manoeuver her in what was supposed to be a friendly game of driveway hoops. Her mother's voice warning on her way out the door to the crime scene was ringing in her ears. _You never know who you might run into… _Jane closed her eyes in frustration. _Yeah. Like a perfectly put together chief medical examiner for a best friend, while I look like I've come straight from a bar fight. _She leaned her head on the steering wheel for a moment, trying to steady the whirl of conflicted thoughts running through her mind. She was starting to think she was in for a long night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Confession: For a minute I thought there was something wrong with my spell check. Then I realised R&I had just gotten to me, and I keep trying to spell it 'homocide'. That's how much GHEY is in this story…**

**Also, there's been some queries as to where exactly the plot is going from here. Lemme just reassure you that I'm not going to go through every single episode with quite the same fine-toothed subtext comb as it might appear from here. But think of this story as proof of my hypothesis: There are plot holes in the TV show that can only be filled by the fact that these two have mad crazy history way before we got to see them. Seriously…two single, adult women who are clearly in love and lust with each other, but just won't get it on -**_**in the year 2011?**_**Janet Tamaro might not want to show us all the missing moments, but you know they're there. Stick around and I'll show em to you, you'll see.**

**Anyway, we'll discuss this theory in depth, amongst many other critical world issues at the commune.**

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><p>At first the crime scene looked pretty typical - Crowe posturing for the cameras and then trying to measure his dick against Jane's and then Frost's, Frost throwing up neatly in the background, trying to pass off his queasy stomach as food poisoning, the usual - but then it started to get weird fast. There was a tone she didn't like at all in Crowe's voice as he smirked at her, telling her the crime scene might bring back old memories, but since he'd say just about anything to fuck with her head, she ignored him. Alarm definitely started to set in however, when she walked in to see her old partner, standing just inside the victim's living room, his face strangely sober.<p>

"Korsak! I thought you were on vacation."

"Cut it short."

"That bad?" she asked, wanting a clue. He just looked at her, flatly.

"Worse." Her curiosity piqued, she walked over to the couch where the M.E was already leaning over, probing the slashed throat of a middle aged man, tied up on his own couch.

"Ten centimetres" the doctor said by way of greeting, frowning into the dead man's wound. Frost quickly made his excuses, fleeing the scene, with a mild groan. Maura continued her commentary as if the interruption hadn't even occurred. She was in the zone.

"Carotid artery and the jugular have been transected," she explained. "What's odd, is how precise it is." She glanced up at Jane for a second, and did a double take. "Hairline fracture," she diagnosed. "The nasal bone, above the lateral nasal cartilage. It's not disfiguring." Jane knew this was her friend, Maura, being comforting but it was a little disconcerting having her own wounds neatly classified in the tone of Dr. Isles' all-my-patients-are-dead bedside manner.

"Looks pretty disfiguring to me," quipped Korsak, misunderstanding, as he eyed the corpse. Jane in turn eyed Maura, who'd already returned her attention to the dead. _Fine. Let's play doctor then._

"Can you pop this out for me?" she asked. The look that came over Maura was startling. Her body straightened and swayed a little at the same time. Her breath rushed out of her and she smiled, then tried to rein in her smile, her eyes darting sideways, pleased and embarrassed all at once.

"Can't you do something safe? Like Yoga?" she teased wryly, as she pulled off her latex gloves. Jane smirked sheepishly. "Might hurt a little," Maura warned her.

"Okay," she accepted with a small smile, to remind Maura she was dealing with a hardened homicide detective who was after all, tough, and perfectly used to pain.

As Dr. Isles smiled back and moved towards her, Jane suddenly realised the reason for Maura's oddly giddy reaction to her request. She stepped in close and as her fingers gripped Jane's chin, her light brown eyes remained carefully clinical in their assessment, but Jane felt quite clear that the doctor was as equally aware as she was, _this is the first time we've touched in over a year. _It was true in fact; they'd held themselves so carefully separate, that the two of them hadn't shared so much as a handshake, with barely even an accidental brush of an arm since their first day at work together. _The last time you touched me, _Jane's thoughts raced, _you were wearing nothing but a bedsheet and I was kissing you goodbye. _They'd both been extremely, overly cautious, and as Maura's other hand reached towards her, Jane realised why. The touch only lasted for a couple of seconds, but her insides were quaking at the closeness of Maura's body and the sensation of her cool fingers gently gripping her chin. Maura's eyes were on her and she worked hard to hold her own gaze level. She could feel the other woman's breath ghosting on her skin and - "_Ow! _A _little?_" she yelped, batting Maura's hands away, reaching up for her own nose, feeling momentarily blinded. It was somewhat fitting, Jane would reflect later, that after all this time Maura's first touch would cause her such pain.

For a moment she forgot where they were, or why, until Korsak brusquely returned both women to the matter at hand, talking them through the facts. The dead man was a doctor and his wife was missing, presumably abducted. Jane was halfway through a lame joke about the wife's innocence when her mind suddenly snagged on the familiarity of the scene, her eyes flickering from the bound and gagged corpse, to the photograph of the missing wife and a jolt of pure fear ripped through her. Knowing exactly what she'd find before she looked, she bent down beside the couch to see the overturned teacup and saucer on the floor. It took her out in an instant - her first flashback in months. The bound and tied woman on the floor of the abandoned basement, her eyes widening in fear as she looked behind Jane, right before the crack to the back of her skull had knocked her out. She took in a deep breath, _I will not lose my shit in the middle of a crime scene. _Her voice came out hard.

"Is he out? Is the surgeon out?" Beside her Maura recoiled from the dead victim in front of her.

"Oh my god, _Korsak_…!" Maura was the type for whom fear and anger were closely linked. Hoyt was not a subject they'd discussed between the two of them, but Jane knew that Maura had of course read through the case notes and was perfectly familiar with the story of the man who'd tormented her best friend. Jane could already sense the emotions beginning to whirl through Maura's mind, even before she could quite get a grip on what her own were going to be.

"He's not out!" Korsak sounded defensive. "It's his M.O that's all." Maura wasn't going to let it go.

"Why didn't you warn us?" she was genuinely upset. "Warn Jane, at least?"

Through her agitation, Jane's mind clamped firmly on the word _us._The idea that Maura would unconsciously take on a serial killer as some kind of best-friend problem that she could share in made her ache. She didn't know whether she wanted to throw up, punch someone or weep. As Maura gazed across at her with concern on every feature, Jane swiped roughly at her aching nose. _Fuck you Hoyt. Why can't you stay in your cell where you belong?_

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><p>"Hoyt's the reason you don't want to be partners isn't it?" Korsak wanted to talk about his feelings. <em>Great. Box open, Hoyt everywhere.<em>Jane knew her decision still nagged at her old partner. He'd been understanding, not pushing her too hard, but it seemed he'd never actually accepted that her decision was permanent. Her edges felt rubbed raw. So she side-stepped.

"You know why," she told him. "I'm allergic to all those sad and furry little creatures you keep rescuing, Detective Doolittle."

"You never sneezed," Korsak levelled back at her. She was about to launch back when another voice interrupted.

"Hello," she glanced up to see a slightly tired looking fed in a suit, walking in. "Special Agent Gabriel Dean," he introduced himself, flashing his badge. Maura turned to Jane and flashed her a coy _he's sexy _look. Jane frowned. Maura wasn't usually so in Jane's face about the men she found attractive. It wasn't so much another of their unspoken rules, as a small act of mercy on Maura's part, or so Jane had always thought. Agent Dean had barely finished his introduction before Jane interrupted.

"What's the FBI doing here?" she kept her expression flat and unwelcoming. Maura turned to her again, this time her expression teasing and chiding in equal measures. _Oh no…she doesn't mean…oh, shit, does she? _Agent Dean neatly side-stepped her demand, refusing to explain just why the hell the FBI were even interested in her case. Jane felt herself becoming increasingly irritated and all things considered, she wasn't inclined to hide it.

"Hey. You know we're on the same side, right?" the agent asked, looking mildly put out. He was actually fairly attractive, in a rumpled, kind of way, she guessed, and he didn't lose his temper or cave in when Jane all but snarled at him, which she had to admit took her by surprise. "Just here to observe," he shook his head diplomatically, with an amused glint in his eyes at her overly zealous defence.

"Right." Jane was just about to decide he was moderately likeable after all, when Maura turned to her, breaking the silence.

"Jane, I'll be doing the autopsy in the morning," she said levelly, strictly business. Then she turned to Agent Dean, her voice turning warmly seductive, "Come if you like." She turned and left them alone, shooting Jane an _oh yes, my friend, _quirk of her eyebrows and a satisfied smirk, completely ignoring Jane's disbelieving head shake as she mouthed the word _no._

* * *

><p>A hiker chasing after his dog had stumbled across Gail Jaeger's body in the woods. Jane had not expected to find her alive, but it felt like a punch in the guts all the same. She was still trying to reassemble herself from her visit with Hoyt as they pulled into the entrance to the woods. Agent Dean was here, along with his cronies. <em>Great. <em>Jane let Frost go on ahead, as she came to a rapid decision. As she saw it, she had two options. Go with Maura's suggestion, which meant a date with a not-unattractive federal officer, with a side-serving of getting to spend some real time with her best friend, or she'd just have to watch him smarm all over Maura instead. She'd seen the spark of attraction in her friend's eyes. If it wasn't for Jane, Maura would have definitely flashed those mesmerising eyes of hers at the agent and he'd have been a goner. But Maura had promised to find Jane a man, and find her a man she had. So. A date _plus_ Maura, or lose Maura to another date. _Fine. I'll play. _She checked her reflection, put on some old lipstick she'd found stashed in the glove compartment three years ago, and smoothed back her hair. _Game face Rizzoli._

She got out of the car and started to walk with him. She knew how Maura picked up, employing the full weight of her girly side…eyes, lips, curves… …Jane blinked, but she herself employed a different technique.

"How'd you get here so fast?" she growled at him. He bit.

"I was in the area."

"Ooh, everyone's so _lucky _today!" she tossed sarcastically over her shoulder. He followed her. Of course he did. It was less _playing hard to get_ and more _treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen, _but it was every bit as effective in its own way. But then they rounded the corner, and there she was. Amongst the grey suits every one else on the scene was wearing, and against the dimness of the forest, Maura Isles shone in her bright red coat, like a light in the dark. Despite everything, Jane almost smiled, as the doctor made everyone else fade into the background, yet again. _Fucking little red riding hood. _She looked stunning. Even if she was apparently in the midst of removing a dead woman's eye fluid through a syringe.

"Vitreous potassium," she announced. "Helps us determine a post-mortem interval." Maura really needed to work on her social greetings Jane decided. That aside, she'd never been so glad to see her best friend. If Hoyt was darkness, well then Maura was light. Just being around her made the world seem a little bit less dire. On top of that Jane was just happy to have the backup. Gabriel Dean might be moderately cute, but as a federal agent he sucked. Glancing down at the carefully laid out corpse, with her brushed out hair and garlands of leaves, he proclaimed the killer had simply run out of time to bury her. Maura and Jane exchanged glances. Sure, the two of them still argued over crime scenes almost as frequently as they ever had, but they'd also developed their own language somewhere along the line, so that Jane knew instantly from the look the doctor gave her, that they at least, were very much on the same page. There was something very wrong about this scene and it wasn't the killer's time management skills.

The autopsy had confirmed the presence of necrophilia, and despite his earlier blase attitude, Agent Dean seemed to be already aware of what they would find. Jane knew Maura wanted her to like this guy, but as he continued to deny sharing any of his information with them, she was starting to get seriously pissed off. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, _Really? Maura, this guy is insufferable. _But she kept it to herself. Sometimes attraction just rubbed her up the wrong way. The feeling always made her uncomfortable and more often than not it came out as irritation instead, which she would then use to hide her vulnerability behind. Even Maura infuriated her at times. Especially Maura, in actual fact. But then again, sometimes, a guy was just a jerk. It was hard to tell. She swallowed her words, settling for shooting Maura a blazing glare. _The things I do for you…_

She couldn't sit still. Hoyt was behind bars; she didn't have to be afraid, she _wasn't_ afraid, really. It's just…she didn't quite want to be alone right now. She was meant to be upstairs helping Korsak and Frost as they trawled the databases, trying to find a match for a suspect that could have had contact with Hoyt somewhere along the line, but instead, she wandered back down to see Maura, tuna salad in hand as an excuse. Maura was always focussed, but Jane knew that with her own safety at risk, the doctor was working double. She probably wouldn't have eaten all day. Maura's grateful smile as she accepted Jane's usual offering only proved her theory correct.

"You guys eating cat food?" came Dean's interruption. Jane's irritation amped up a notch.

"Yeah. Want some?" she shoved the fish under his nose. "Guess it's a chick thing," she drawled, enjoying his obvious recoil. She felt Maura's eyes on her and caught her friend's indulgent smile. She couldn't tell if Maura was amused because she thought Jane was just so bad at this, or if she could tell that Jane's belligerence was just a cover. Jane smirked back. Her friend was a smarty-pants, but she clearly hadn't worked out that Jane's version of flirting was essentially that of a small boy in a playground. Next she'd pull Agent Dean's hair and call him names. Maura was only lucky Jane had aimed for friendship with her, or she'd have found herself pushed into puddles left right and centre, or had worms shoved down her shirt instead. Jane's enjoyment of the idea of Maura squealing like a enraged girl evaporated as Dean glumly intoned that she should sit down. Even with his grimly portentous tone, Jane wasn't quite prepared for what came next.

"A few hours ago, Charles Hoyt escaped custody." A sharp stab of pain hit her in the chest and she dropped down onto the desk, gazing at Maura in shock.

"Oh my god…" the words slipped out. Agent Dean started talking, his voice carefully controlled as he explained the nature of the escape and what they'd do to keep her safe, but Jane wasn't listening. The roaring in her ears was back and she'd forgotten how to breathe all of a sudden. _He's out and he's coming for me. This is it. End game._ Her stomach churned and the beginnings of another flashback started to crowd in, the edges of her vision going dark when suddenly she jumped, jerked back to the present. There was a hand on her arm, cool and gentle against her burning skin. She opened her eyes to see Maura's face, not calm and professional like Dean's, but scared and worried like her own. Strangely, it soothed Jane. She wasn't going crazy and she wasn't alone. Maura's fingers slipped down her arm and gripped hold of her hand. She couldn't possibly know the way the scars there were aching, but she held Jane's hand tightly in her own, her other hand sliding across to cover the scar from sight.

"Jane," she said quietly, her thumb stroking her palm. "It's going to be alright." Her conviction didn't reach her eyes, but as Maura took over, explaining all the reasons Jane was quite safe, she found herself listening. She didn't really believe a word of it, but she was comforted all the same. By the time they were standing upstairs, watching the security footage of Hoyt's violent escape, she felt strong again. Strong and really fucking angry.Hoyt stabbed his own hand and showed it to the camera. So he was coming for her, then. _Goddamn sick scumbag piece of shit. Come near me this time and I swear to god I will kill you myself._

* * *

><p>Despite Dean's rational appeals, Korsak's tantrum and Maura's large, worried eyes, Jane went home. Frankie and Frost trailed her, following her upstairs and barging into her house, refusing to leave.<p>

"If I was a guy you wouldn't be worried like this," she groused. The whole experience was giving her a completely different kind of flashback, the way her friends and colleagues crowded around her after Hoyt's first attack, treating her like a fragile child. It drove her nuts to feel them swarming back again, so eager to babysit.

"You're not a guy!" her brother's frustrated voice went up an octave. She loved Frankie, but she hated it when he tried to turn the tables on her. He was her baby brother, if anyone was protecting anyone, it'd be the other way around.

"No," she snapped. "I am a homicide detective, and he is not going to kill me." When Frankie grabbed for her hand, yelling about her scars as if she needed reminding of what Hoyt was capable of, that was it, she threw them out. It didn't help her feeling of claustrophobia however. Her partner and brother parked outside her building, her neighbour interrupting her stress-vacuuming, then just when she thought it couldn't get worse, her mother arrived. _Fucking Hoyt! _Doing this to her all over again, causing everyone around her to swarm around like concerned mother hens, forcing themselves into the centre of her life, giving them license to vent their worries and doubts about her, over and over again. On any other day, she was a perfectly capable, independent professional adult. Add in the minor detail of a deranged serial killer and apparently she had no rights to her own life anymore. Hoyt had stripped back the years and turned her into a victim all over again. But one thing was different, she realised. She had one thing that was new. Something completely disconnected from who she'd been back then and the thought made her strong.

"Where are you going?" her mother's voice bordered on hysterical as Jane grabbed her jacket and keys, swallowing her trepidation at her plan.

"Someplace where you're not."


	11. Chapter 11

**You guys, I'm genuinely afraid that I might return home from Bali one big _Eat Pray Love_ cliche. As I write this, I'm wearing actual yoga pants and even the fresh squirrel poo that squidged between my toes this morning in the open air bathroom barely even caused me to break my stride. By the time I'm home I'm going to be so zen I'll be smiling my new superior Julia Roberts smile at all the surly hipsters in my neighbourhood from the snug comfort of my batik sarong and jesus sandals... **

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><p><strong>Oh HEY, you know who else likes to think a lot about stuff? Chief Medical Examiners!<strong>

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><p>Maura Isles sat down on the couch in her own living room, dressed to the nines. She'd thought she'd understood her own motivations when she'd hatched this plan, but now she wasn't so sure. She ticked off the facts in her head.<p>

Jane was uncomfortable with the undertones of physical desire remaining in their friendship. Maura had deducted that the best cure would be to find Jane a safer outlet for her desires and therefore she had found her one. However Jane was at her most vulnerable right now and as a result Maura had carefully assigned herself the task of ascertaining Agent Dean's true character.

All of this added up to why she was currently wearing stilettos and tight pants with her face carefully made up to accentuate all her best features, when really she was exhausted, tense and would far prefer be curled up in her pyjamas and drinking a quiet glass of wine before bed. But Jane was her best friend, and since she was typically refusing help from everybody around her just now, then this was the one thing Maura knew she could do to ensure her safety - emotionally, at least.

The plan had made sense, to start with. The problem was that now, as she sat listing Agent Dean's many desirable features in her head, she'd started to feel an unexpected emotion herself. It wasn't jealousy _precisely_, since she didn't actually want to engage in a relationship with Gabriel or Jane herself, but more a kind of deep-seated tingling of…fear. Yes, fear was exactly what it was. She'd been constantly feeling afraid for Jane since the day before when they'd realised the case's connection to Hoyt and therefore the detective. As a result it had taken her this long to pick up on the additional fear she was also feeling for herself. She concentrated on the feeling, allowing it to become clear. As she focussed the fear became very specific: she was afraid she was going to lose Jane.

If it wasn't bad enough that a dangerous serial killer had escaped prison with the clear intention of torturing and murdering the detective, on top of that Maura now found herself in the odd position of offering up her friend to someone else. While she'd very early on resigned herself to the fact that anything more intimate than friendship with Jane was never going to happen, the detective was still by far the most important person in her entire life.

Maura didn't have a whole lot of friends. Acquaintances, professional connections, people with whom she shared leisure activities, but very few friends. She was also an only child with parents who were busy people with their own separate, distant lives - she saw them around once a year at most. Men were an ever-present fact of life, but they seemed to drift in and out of her world at alarming speed. For most of her life Maura had believed that human beings interacted like planets, orbiting around the same basic solar system but never actually touching. Jane, however, had a stronger gravitational pull than most and through her friendship with the detective, Maura had awoken in surprise one day to find herself an earthling at last. Because it wasn't just a friendship she'd gained, but a whole new way of life. When Jane had pulled her in, she'd pulled her all the way in, crashing through to a world where her awkwardness didn't matter, where colleagues were friends who smiled at her in the corridors and asked about her day, where families were noisy, emotional and overly-involved, and where laughter could be found in the darkest of places.

The idea of losing Jane was utterly unbearable. Maura felt it physically, battling against a constant low grade nausea that made it difficult to eat, and even more difficult to concentrate. Hoyt was a sickeningly real threat to her friend's life and Maura was pretty sure that no one who loved Jane would sleep a wink until the man was safely back behind bars. However the more she sat and thought about Agent Dean - his good looks, his calm handle on Jane's fury, his professional match to the detective and his warm eyes when he looked at her friend - the more she wondered what it was she'd set in motion. Jane had barely dated in the time she'd known her and the prickly detective always found fault with whomever was brave enough to take her out for dinner, so Maura had no idea what Relationship Jane would actually look like. She'd wanted it to mean they could spend time together with more ease, but now she thought more about it, she was afraid it might just mean the opposite. Jane's free time, her energy, her teasingly spiky method of conversation would all be directed toward someone else. Maura could almost see the colour leaching out of her days at the thought.

Which brought her back to the crux of this evening's problem. The plan had been to turn on the charm when Dean arrived, to appear available and interested, where Jane did not, and if he bit, well, Maura would know to steer Jane on a different course. If he didn't, then he clearly had a good enough grasp on the fact that Jane was special and very much not to be messed with. The plan had made sense until Maura had all of a sudden doubted her own intentions. It would be so very easy, to take it just a tiny step further, to actively try and seduce the agent and sabotage his budding attraction to her friend, right now while the window of opportunity was still open. Jane had never directly expressed an interest in Gabriel Dean. Maura was still not entirely sure if Jane's constant rebuffing had signalled her true feelings or not. It wouldn't be so very bad, would it? To make a move, and keep Jane for herself?

She shook her head, denying him firmly as though he was already in the room. _No. _She would never do such a thing. Jane was in terrible danger and if an attractive, caring FBI agent wanted to wrap his strong arms around her, well Maura was determined that her friend should have that.

Maura had done it herself, just the once. She'd wrapped her arms around Jane's body and held her tightly as the detective tried not to cry, and failed. An unexpected feeling of warmth had rushed through her, lying there in bed as this strong, beautiful stranger came entirely undone under her touch. She'd felt so close to her all of a sudden, as if they hadn't only had sex but actually connected, like two people who understood each other. It had felt like more than just sex, at the time. In the act of giving Jane pleasure, Maura had found herself wanting to give her everything she had, to take away her firmly wielded control and show her just how beautiful she was, how wanted. When Jane had cried, Maura had experienced a fleeting moment of intense, secret happiness with her face pressed into the other woman's neck. It was frightening and unexpected, but maybe this was the start of something…something utterly different from anything she'd ever had before. The feeling pierced through her heart, tethering her firmly to the earth for one exhilarating moment.

It was short-lived however, since Jane had gone on to swipe roughly at her eyes and congratulate Maura on her technical proficiency. Something about her taking a class in cunnilingus - which by the way, Maura did _not_ think there was such a thing - and it took the air from her lungs in dismay. _No, Maura Isles, that was not a moment of deeper connection. It was merely a reaction to the release of dopamine associated with achieving orgasm._ Jane had turned so brusque so quickly however, that Maura had made her second mistake, in trying to express her concern as to Jane's broader emotional well-being, even touching her scarred hand along the way. Maura flinched now, to think of it. How stupid she'd been! How typically misguided of her, to misinterpret the social cues. One night stands - even between women - did not include a discussion about anyone else's deeper feelings. And no one, ever, touched Jane's hands.

She'd known of course, as soon as she'd seen them, that Jane's scars were the result of two separately inflicted stab wounds. She'd seen them the first time they'd met, when Jane had removed her boxing gloves. If she was being honest, she'd have to admit that they'd only added to her sense of intrigue. At first glance Maura had immediately found the other woman deeply sexy, with her long, lean body, her powerful strength and fury, along with the hint of sadness and danger in her eyes…and now she had a dark secret as well. It had been an alarmingly attractive combination at the time. It felt foreign to Maura now, the idea that she could be so disconnected from Jane as to glamourise her wounds. It shamed her, in fact. As soon as she'd realised her mysterious lover was actually Detective Jane Rizzoli, the scars had made a terrible sense all at once. This was the woman who'd brought down Charles Hoyt and nearly died in the process. And Maura had been clueless enough to think that it would be pillow talk. It made her cringe even now.

Today though, Jane had let her hold her hand. She'd looked so panicked and defeated that Maura had done it without even thinking, wanting to comfort her, to hide Jane's vulnerability from the world and from the detective herself. Jane had been startled, but the horrible blank look in her eyes had receded and for the first time ever, Maura had felt like she'd finally managed it - to express the true strength of her connection to Jane, carefully through her own touch. The moment had provided relief to her, as much as it did to Jane. _It's real, what we have. And I'm not letting you go._

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><p>When the knock on the door finally came, Maura took in a deep breath. She flicked her hair back behind her shoulders, rocked her neck from side to side, carefully arranged her features to look relaxed and seductive and then opened the door. It might have been a physiological impossibility, but for a moment Maura thought she felt her heart bang right up against her ribcage.<p>

"Why do you always look like you're going to do a photo shoot?" grumbled the dark haired detective standing on her doorstep. Her expression was one of mildly irritated nonchalance, as though her presence there was an everyday occurrence, rather than an event that had not been repeated even once since that morning over a year ago, when they'd said their long, hungry goodbyes. Maura cocked her head, pleasure battling with surprise, but she stepped aside and let Jane in.

"My mother," was all Jane felt compelled to offer her, by way of explanation. Just like the only other time Jane had loomed large inside her kitchen, Maura felt an instant urge for a very large glass of wine. She didn't want to feel nervous around her best friend, but there it was. She handed Jane a glass too, - she looked like she needed it - and as Jane thanked her, she found herself pausing, suddenly awkward. With any other guest, the next move would be to the couch, but even as she glanced in that direction Maura had been hit with a very strong recollection of Jane's heated body - almost but not _quite_ entirely naked - thrusting up into hers on that exact same item of furniture. She flushed, unsure what to do with her hands all of a sudden.

"_God!_ What is _that?" _Jane's aghast voice pulled her back. She turned to see the brave homicide detective teetering back at the sight of her old pet, who'd lumbered slowly into the kitchen unnoticed. Maura found herself extremely glad for the distraction.

"Shh," she fussed. "You'll scare him!"

"_He's_ alive?" Jane ventured, looking dubious.

"His name is Bass," she explained. "_Geochelone sulcata - _African Spurred Tortoise. I've had him since he was this big," she recalled the tiny present on her eleventh birthday. Of all the expensive, cultured gifts her parents had given her over the years, the tiny tortoise had been the only one she'd truly loved. "Partial to British strawberries," she informed the detective, taking one from the bench and bending down to feed him. Bass got stage fright in the face of the large, loud detective, a feeling Maura was currently sympathetic to.

"Bass? What after an old boyfriend?"

"William M. Bass. The forensic anthropologist who founded the famous body farm."

"Right. _That_ Bass," Jane sounded almost as unimpressed as her parents had been at the time. Maura waved the strawberry enticingly, but Bass retreated under the pressure. Jane snorted.

"Yeah, he's a great pet. Really interactive I'll bet."

"Mmhmm," she patted his hard shell affectionately. Maura liked being teased by Jane about her apparently numerous oddities. There was none of the inherent meanness or confusion that often hid behind the jibes of others. It was just how Jane expressed affection, as well as her rather obvious sense of ownership over her friend. Maura had recently overheard the detective threatening to do something violent, illegal and technically rather complicated to Detective Crowe's scrotum when she'd caught him referring to Maura as 'Queen of the Dead'. It seemed that no one was allowed to make fun of Dr. Isles except for Jane herself. It was an odd way of demonstrating attachment, but still it made her feel warm all the way through. Incredibly warm in fact. No, the couch was not a good idea.

Taking note of Jane's obvious exhaustion, she led the detective tentatively into her spare room.

"So how long can a person go without sleeping?" Jane hedged, as they faced each other next to the large, empty bed.

"Hallucinations begin by day four," Maura replied automatically. "Followed by slurred speech, short attention span, and death." Jane looked incredulous. _Well you asked._

"Better than wikipedia," she shrugged.

"Well, wikipedia is frequently incorrect," Maura stressed, mildly offended by the comparison. "Very little is vigourously peer reviewed." To her consternation, the doorbell rang. Jane turned towards the door in surprise and Maura quickly side-stepped the awkward conversation she knew was coming.

"Somebody's just dropping something off," she tried, knowing guilt was glowing from her every feature, as she fled the room feeling the detective's eyes boring into her back. _This was very bad indeed_, Maura cursed herself for getting distracted. It was typical really. Jane turned up and all her best laid plans lay instantly in ruins. Gabriel's visit had managed to slip her mind and now he was right there on her doorstep, while Jane no doubt had her ears firmly pricked up from behind the spare room door, getting all the wrong impressions that Maura had intended only Agent Dean to get. She sighed. Until either she or Jane got brave enough to discuss the shadows in their friendship, this was just how it would have to be. _Coded conversations and covert operations..._

She opened the door and the handsome agent greeted her politely. He barely had time to register her glammed up appearance before she briskly handed him the information he'd oestensibly come for. "Jane's here," she informed him, by way of explanation for her lack of hospitality and his eyes darted sideways as if looking for her. _Don't bother, _Maura gave him a carefully blank look. _I've got her tonight. _"Goodnight, Agent Dean." He nodded back and obediently disappeared back out into the night. _Good boy. _Maura returned at once to the spare room to assess the damage.

"Go away, I'm asleep," came the reply to her knock. Maura was taken aback by the instant smile that ghosted over her lips when she opened the door to the sight of Jane sprawled out over the bed like she owned it. Jane smirked back and all of a sudden she couldn't help herself. She climbed into bed beside Jane and settled against her, Jane's firm arm warm against her own. Jane's smirk only grew.

"Are we having a sleepover, or is this your way of telling me you're attracted to me?" Jane for once relaxed enough to name the elephant in the room made Maura laugh in surprised pleasure. She decided it was wisest not to reply to that one for now. Jane fidgeted.

"So it was Dean you were expecting?" she asked. Maura paused, considering how best to explain.

"He wanted my opinion on a case," she stuck to the basics of the matter.

"What case?" Jane pricked up her ears.

"I can't say." She almost felt the annoyance as it radiated through her friend.

"Fine, go sleep in your own room," Jane rubbed at her scars. Any potential threat of rejection always made the detective act like a child. Maura rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Jane…" she sighed. They might be best friends but Maura did a far better job than the detective ever had, at keeping the boundaries between their personal relationship and their professional roles carefully separate. Jane fidgeted again.

"Did you ever like the same guy as your best friend?" she asked finally. _Ohhh…._ Maura got it. She wanted to tell Jane she had the wrong end of the branch, that her wires were in disarray and there was nothing at all for her to worry about, but she stopped herself. Because there they were, in bed together, Jane lying so close to her that their bodies were touching, and instead of panicking and behaving like an awkward adolescent, Jane seemed extremely…comfortable. So just like magic, it appeared the plan was working. Agent Dean was a perfect buffer between them, especially now that Jane was thoroughly misunderstanding the situation. As far as the detective was concerned, the two of them were lying in bed together discussing their mutual attraction to a man, which was twice as safe again than if Jane had been the only one with the boy-crush. They could point to it quite clearly and say _there, that's the reason we're not about to jump on each other, that our clothes definitely aren't about to go flying, that we won't suddenly turn to each other and-. _

"No," she replied simply. She neglected to mention the fact that it was still true; she did not like the same guy as her best friend. Yes he was attractive, but to Maura, that was not his point. For that matter, she still wasn't entirely sure whether her best friend even liked the guy herself. Jane seemed struck by a sudden thought.

"Did you ever _have_ a best friend?" Once the question would have saddened Maura. Now, with Jane's arm still pressed up against her own, it just made her shrug.

"No," she said again. Jane looked at her a little harder.

"You'd tell me if you were a cyborg, right?" she mocked her gently. Maura considered.

"No, I don't think I would," she was rewarded with one of Jane's throatier chuckles, the one that always made her melt a little inside. Her voice softened.

"I'm not seeing him," she told her quietly, fiddling with her hands. She hated the thought that Jane might feel like she'd gone behind her back. _I just wanted to keep you safe._

"Yet." Jane always sold herself short. She seemed convinced Maura could have her pick of men, never quite realising the same was equally true of herself.

"Somebody should, don't you think?" Maura coaxed her. Jane's body wriggled awkwardly all of a sudden.

"Yup."

"Shall we draw straws?" she teased her friend. She wondered if Jane was always this oblivious about other people being attracted to her. She couldn't help but hope so, for her own sake.

"Can't we just show him our tits and let him decide?" she shot back and Maura laughed. She tried not to think about the image but there it was, Jane with her expression cocky and teasing, pulling off her shirt and- _oh - _a small crash sounded in the other room as Bass knocked his clumsy way through the kitchen chairs and Jane sat up, her muscles instantly rigid. Maura moved with her, gripping her arm softly, gazing into her eyes.

"It's just Bass. It's okay," she soothed her, her other hand coming up to encircle Jane's bicep. The sleeve of the detective's hoody had slipped down, and Maura's fingers brushed unexpectedly against soft skin. Her stomach tightened as her emotions swarmed within her in confusion. She wanted to comfort Jane, to wipe the fear from her friend's face, but she didn't quite trust herself to act just then. Maura may have dressed up this evening with the explicit aim of being enticing, but Jane just _lived_ that way. She knew the detective would have thrown on her clothes without even thinking that night, nothing more than comfy sweatpants and a loose hoody, and even that plain white tanktop that accidentally, perfectly accentuated her slight curves and gorgeous skin, but up close the effect was still devastating. It wasn't quite fair somehow.

Jane's dark eyes were almost piercing as they focussed intently on her own. There was no corresponding flash of desire there, only a tense need for reassurance, and Maura instinctively rubbed at Jane's forearm, before gently pulling her back down beside her, onto the bed. She settled back even closer into Jane's body, their arms and legs pressed up along the length of each other. She quickly tucked her other hand behind her head, to stop it from reaching out to touch the woman next to her. Beside her, Jane rubbed at her scars, smiling to try and cover her vulnerability.

"Never been so scared in all my life," she admitted. Maura gazed over at her. Jane always blustered, acting tough around everyone, getting angry to hide any weakness, refusing to be called out as human. She smiled at Maura's concerned look, trying to protect her from worrying, even as she quietly revealed her own fear. Maura melted.

"I have a nightlight," she confessed. Jane stiffened and then started to laugh.

"You have a _what_?" she snorted.

"A nightlight," Maura repeated. "I used to have nightmares frequently, as a child. They came back during med school…and again for months after I started here as chief," she smiled wryly in reassurance, as Jane turned puppy eyes on her. "So I have a nightlight. Just incase."

"A nightlight…" Jane's smirk returned and she shook her head. "Let me guess, it glows in pink neon and it's shaped like Minnie Mouse?"

"Oh no!" her tone was shocked. "It's vintage. A beautiful French piece, handcrafted in glass by-" she broke off as Jane cracked up, vindicated. "Well. I'll show you," Maura left the room, returning a moment later with the small piece in her hand. The glass was a dull gold and etched with dragonflies. She plugged it in, turned off the overhead lights and the darkness stayed at bay. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Jane turned on her side toward her, looking over at the tiny lamp, the golden light reflecting in her dark eyes.

"It's beautiful, Maur." They gazed at each other, smiling like co-conspirators. The warm light glowed off the detective's skin, and Maura found herself wanting to stare longer than was advisable. She stood, slowly.

"Goodnight, Jane," she said softly. She'd gotten as far as the door when Jane's voice stopped her.

"I thought we were having a sleepover," she protested, her voice aggrieved. Maura turned.

"Jane, I really-"

"A _serial killer, _Maura," she emphasised. "A really smart, scary serial killer. Who is after me. With an accomplice. Aren't you even a little bit worried?" Maura couldn't believe it. There was an actual pout on Jane's lips.

"Well," she paused. "When you put it that way, I guess you do have my only nightlight…"

* * *

><p>A few minutes later she was climbing back into bed with Jane, this time under the covers. She couldn't help but smile to herself. The evening had not worked out remotely how she'd planned it. There was a world of difference between dressing up to tempt a federal agent, and slipping between the sheets, make-up free in pyjamas next to a homicide detective, but they both served the same purpose - the comfort and protection of one Jane Rizzoli. Sighing in relief as her body sunk into the firm mattress, Maura let herself acknowledge just which option she privately preferred.<p>

"Uh, Maura?" came the voice in the semi-darkness beside her. "You haven't been to many sleepovers have you?" Maura turned her head.

"No," she shrugged. "Why?" Jane sighed.

"There's supposed to be junk food. And movies. You know…pizza and chickflicks, and squealing about boys?" Maura started to laugh at the likelihood of Jane Rizzoli ever squealing about boys, but she covered it, quickly.

"You hate chickflicks," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but the other option would be horror movies, and I've got enough of that playing in here," she jabbed a finger into the side of her head. Maura frowned.

"It's late, Jane. You need to get _some_ sleep at least," she reminded her, nestling a little closer. "We both do." Jane remained quiet, though Maura could feel the tension radiating from the body beside her.

"I keep thinking-" Jane broke off. Maura turned on her side and gently gripped Jane's warm, bare arm, stroking the skin there, trying to distract her enough to free her words again. It worked. "I keep thinking about how he's preparing," she swallowed. "He always said the only reason I'd won last time was because he hadn't been ready for me," her voice was low. "He's ready now." The blackness of Jane's words made Maura shudder. Without even thinking she reached over and wrapped her arm low around Jane's waist, holding firmly onto her body. Jane became very, very still.

"It's okay, Jane," she murmured, pushing insistently down on her hip until the other woman turned obediently onto her side, allowing herself to be spooned. Maura ducked one arm under Jane's neck, and draping her other around her hips, carefully keeping her hands above the cotton. Jane still appeared to be frozen.

"Maur-"

"Have you ever been to Italy, Jane?" Maura stopped her, settling her body in against her friend's.

"Er…No?" Jane sounded unsure.

"You should," she decided. "I'll take you sometime...after all this is over. I think you'd like it there. We used to holiday just outside of Siena when I was a child. We would stay in this amazing old stone villa on a vineyard in the hills. Maybe I'll ask my mother for the name of it and we can stay there ourselves," she mused. "It's beautiful, Jane. All the hills are covered in olive groves and grape vines as far as you can see. You can eat fresh figs, right off the trees," she remembered. "When I was five I ate so many I threw up on my mother's favourite Chanel," she felt Jane's low laugh rumble through her ribcage. "The light is different there, " she lowered her voice. "It's golden, just like this. In the evenings especially, and in the early mornings too. I'd wander outside before anyone else was awake...the hills, the sky above the horizon, the trees and the vines...everything would be bathed in gold. It felt like you could breathe it in, if you tried…"

Maura let herself get lost in her story, talking about her first taste of _chianti_ and about sun-warmed fruit, sleepy stray cats and the giant red tomatoes in the dusty earth. She was describing the narrow streets of the tiny colourful, ancient city when she realised Jane had finally slipped into sleep. As her own eyes closed, her face came in to rest on the back of Jane's warm shoulder and she finally let herself breathe.


	12. Chapter 12

For what felt like the thousandth time that day Maura called Jane's phone, only for it to ring out. She didn't want to panic - it was unnecessary and entirely counterproductive to panic - but judging by the wide berth the crime scene techs were giving her, panicking was exactly what she'd started to do. She slowed down her breathing and tried to remain calm. It was difficult however, when every glance around Jane's ruined apartment gave her another reason to feel enraged and terrified. She didn't need to be here, since as the despatch had so casually informed her, there was no _body_ on the scene to be examined, but she'd arrived along with the team nonetheless, wanting to make sure that not a single item of forensic evidence was missed that could give them a clue as to Hoyt's whereabouts.

She wanted to be there when Jane arrived, not wanting the detective to face up to the ruin of her home on her own. She felt protective towards Jane's possessions, disturbed at the way they'd been ripped apart and thrown around in fury for anyone to see. She wanted, in actual fact, to wrap her arms around her friend and weep with terror at the near escape, at what _might_ have been, if Jane had stayed at home last night. When Maura might have been called in, to investigate the _body. _When the call had come in it had taken her more than half an hour to get hold of Jane in the first place, since the detective had already stormed out, ignoring Maura's pleas for calm. Maura could only assume she'd headed straight for Agent Dean's temporary base to interrogate him as to why Maura was _need to know_ when she was not. By the time she'd gotten a response to her calls she was already close to tears, standing in the middle of Jane's ruined living room.

"Jane," she tried to keep the worry out of her voice. "I'm in your apartment."

"Why?" her voice sounded more surprised than anything. Maura hadn't, of course, been invited over there before.

"Jane…they've been in here," she didn't want to explain any further, but Jane got it straight away.

"I'll be right there."

Only, she wasn't. Half an hour went by, and then forty-five minutes, and then an hour. Maura's thumb pressed _call_ again. She was starting to hate the torture of Jane's surly voicemail greeting. Jane's voice, but no Jane. _Where are you? _She wanted to demand answers from the recording. _Why won't you answer me? _She called Korsak instead.

"It's Jane," she choked out.

"Tell me," Korsak's voice cracked. He sounded like an old man, all of a sudden.

"No," Maura tried. "Not that. I mean…she said she was on her way here to the apartment, but no one's seen her. I called Dean and he said she'd left an hour ago. She's not answering her phone, Korsak- I don't know what to do," she took a ragged breath.

"I've got this," Korsak said, his voice clipped and angry. "Stay where you are. I'll call you when I find her." Maura wasn't sure whether to be grateful for the _when_. Neither of them had said the words, but they both knew Jane wouldn't just drop out of contact, not with everything as it was. Hoyt was behind this. Maura just made it to the bathroom before she was neatly sick.

She paced around in front of Jane's building until Frankie arrived, looking ferocious. "Stay inside Maura," he ordered her, his young face distorted with rage. "We don't know if it's safe, alright? If she comes back this way, I'll tell you." The entire of BPD seemed to be out in force. They'd found Jane's car parked not far from her apartment. Frost had given her a courtesy call to update her that - _nothing. _They'd found nothing. Maura had tried to join in the work for a while, getting in the way of the techs as they wound up processing, but there was nothing at all to be found in Jane's emptied drawers and mangled possessions. She curled herself up into the corner of Jane's slashed up couch and wrapped her arms around her knees, physically trying to hold herself together as she ran through the last two days in her head.

* * *

><p>She'd woken up halfway through that first night as Jane had pulled away from her, only to turn in her arms and press her face into her throat, slinging one arm around Maura's body as she slept. For the rest of the night her dreams had been gently permeated with the grassy scent of Jane's shampoo as her hair tickled her nose. She'd woken up just before dawn to find that their positions had been reversed. Her arm was wrapped around her pillow and Jane was spooned around her, holding her tight. As the light slowly dawned outside, Jane had extricated herself, rolling away so that when the alarm sounded, they'd stretched and smiled at each other from opposite sides of the bed.<p>

Amazingly there'd been hardly any awkwardness at all. In fact, Maura thought it had been quite pleasant. They'd showered in their separate bathrooms and argued just like usual while sharing breakfast, then parted ways at their cars. She'd arrived at the precinct moments after Jane, in time to hear Detective Crowe's taunt float out into the foyer.

"You look like you slept under an overpass." _Oh, fine. Next time you can try spooning her to sleep, _Maura frowned, offended.

"How are you still single?" Jane's snippy retort rang out, and Maura smiled to herself as she pressed the down button on the elevator. The detective had clearly rested enough to make it through the day, though whether those unfortunate enough to work with her would be as lucky was yet to be seen.

The inevitable call came in a couple of hours later. Hoyt and his new friend had ruined yet another family's lives. Maura beat the homicide squad to the scene, wishing Jane would spare herself the anguish of picking through Hoyt's deliberate display of destruction, but when the detective arrived, her mood remained surprisingly intact. Maura had almost jumped when the detective uncharacteristically lay her hand gently on the small of her back, as if to alert her to her presence and reassure her all at once. They talked through the scene together in relative calm and even though Hoyt continued to play games - sending Jane flowers to the scene and taunting her with his surprisingly lame serial killer humour - Jane kept herself together nicely.

It wasn't until they found Katrina Gant's body in the woods that things began to get ugly.

"You are _not_ going to like what we're about to do," Jane had warned her, and on that count she was absolutely correct. Jane's idea of a plan involved leaving the dead woman posed in the woods to surveil, dismissing both the indignity to Katrina and the value of Maura's forensic science with a sharp "I said you wouldn't like it. Let's go." Her steely tone had grated and Maura's professional pride had amped up a notch and they'd sparred, alone in the woods, over a dead body.

"What makes you think Hoyt isn't watching you right now?" Maura's fear spilled out over the edges of her strictly professional argument. They both raised their voices in frustration, and as she thought of Jane's intention to sit out in the dark woods in the middle of the night trying to lure in a pair of killers, she got quietly more upset.

"Maura, please," Jane begged her, before throwing in the big guns. "Do this for _me_." Maura looked at Jane's eyes, large, dark and imploring. Even though it went against all of her professional judgement, she felt herself cave. _What's wrong with me? _she wondered. _We fight all the time and it never influences my judgement. Then she looks at me with those eyes and I just allow her to railroad me. This is wrong._

She'd been right of course. The stake-out had resulted in nothing more than a mild but frightening knife wound to Korsak's neck and Jane humiliating herself when she'd bumped into Maura's secret safety plan in the woods - Agent Dean posted as back-up - and thrown him down into a creek. Jane had stormed into the morgue, holding a small smelly dog and looking furious with her, and this time Maura had refused to back down. She'd let Jane's anger run its course without giving so much as an inch. _I will not apologise for protecting you from yourself, no matter how much insist on carrying on about it._ The stench of the bedraggled canine was at least as offensive as anything that came through the morgue so she redirected them both to the sink.

"Did you actually…tackle him?" she couldn't help the amusement that snuck in as Jane wound down her rant.

"Yes," she glared. "Like a linebacker. _Very_ professional." Maura tried not to laugh.

"That's…wow. You're very brave," she soothed her.

"No," Jane finally softened. "I'm simply tired of being afraid." Maura watched her awkwardly dowse the small creature under the tap for a moment.

"New guard dog?" she asked. Jane snorted.

"Kinda," she replied. "I don't know…Korsak rescued her. Now he's hurt and it's my own stupid fault. It's the least I can do." _Yes. It was your own stupid, annoying, obstinate fault and you're just lucky none of you ended up dead. _She frowned, close to letting her temper flare at the detective again.

"Would you like to stay at my place again tonight?" she asked instead. She caught the smile that crossed Jane's lips before she turned away.

"I'll be okay," she said gruffly. "You don't have to babysit me."

"I've been looking into chickflicks," Maura tried. Jane threw her a look over her shoulder.

"In that case I'm definitely staying home," she groaned. "Besides, now I have _Jo Friday_," she glanced down at the pathetic wet mess under the tap, who was even smaller with her hair plastered against her body. "I'm totally safe," she concluded, with a shrug.

Maura had been just about in bed when the doorbell had rang. This time Jane looked a little sheepish, her overnight bag in one hand and a wide-eyed terrier tucked under her arm. "Dean turned up, wanting to stay," she announced, looking irritated. Maura raised an eyebrow, letting her in.

"And?"

"And no!" Jane huffed, dropping her bag on the floor. "So many no's…" she rolled her eyes. She unclipped Jo and let her run inside. "Ugh, he wants to look after me," she groaned.

"Which is bad," Maura clarified, leading her to the kitchen deciding herbal tea was what was called for this time. Jane was close behind her though and she leaned over to pluck the box of _Natural Calm_ from her hands, scrunching up her face.

"It's bad because I threw him in a creek, Maura," she growled, turning to the refrigerator and pulling out the half bottle of wine tucked inside the door. Maura took it from her and placed it back. Then she reached into the back of the fridge and pulled out one of the bottles of budweiser she'd bought on her way home. For a split second she thought Jane was going to kiss her, as the detective paused gazing at her, then grinned broadly in surprise. "I can _totally_ take him," her tone bordered on bragging as Maura passed her the bottle opener. "And yet he wants to look after me, like I'm some kind of fragile pretty princess." She took a swig of beer. "He should be dating _you_, Maura, you're more his type." Maura was annoyed.

"I'm not remotely fragile," she frowned and Jane smirked.

"Well, no," she admitted. "So what DVDs did you find for us, _princess_?"

* * *

><p>"Dr. Isles?" The ringing of her phone had made her jump and she'd fumbled with the buttons.<p>

"Dean-"

"We've got her. She's okay. A little banged up, but okay." He waited while she swallowed down the urge to sob and took in a shaky breath.

"Hoyt?"

"We've got him too."

"Where are you? I'll be right there," she stood up, gathering her bag.

"Maura," he paused. "She's okay. I've got this. You should go and get some rest."

"Oh," she flinched. "Of course. Tell her-" _no, don't. _"I'll speak to her tomorrow."

"Goodnight Dr, Isles."

"Agent Dean-"

"Yes, Maura?" there was the mildest hint of impatience in his carefully modulated voice.

"Be careful," she'd meant to be more specific - _be careful with her - _but she let the implicit threat in her words lie.

"Of course." He hung up.

* * *

><p>She had so many unanswered questions. What about the apprentice? How had they gotten to Jane? How had she escaped? Had Agent Dean swept in to save her after all or had Jane saved herself? <em>Did he wrap her up in his arms and hold her, telling her she was safe at last? Did she finally cave in and kiss him in her relief? Was he wooing her over a romantic post-traumatic dinner or was she working out the after-effects of all that adrenaline on his body right now? <em>Maura reached out a hand to lean on the glass wall of the shower for support, closing her eyes and letting the hot water pound her face.

_It's right, _she tried. _It's how it should be. It's what I wanted, _she reminded herself. _Yay, the plan worked. _Her nausea was back. Just a hangover from the day's accumulated stresses, that was all. Men - even the really good ones like Gabriel Dean - they'd come and go. What she and Jane had was bigger and better than that.

Last night, she'd slipped the DVD into place and laughed as Jane instantly began to complain. _Ugh really? I already know how this is going to end. No one argues like that unless they secretly want to fuck each other. ...Ergh…and she is way too hot for him, by the way. _

Maura had secretly quite enjoyed the film, even with its flimsy pretexts and predictable plot twists. Despite the lateness of the hour she'd watched all the way through to the end, alternating between gazing at the would-be lovers on screen, and at the sight of her best friend perfectly passed out on the other end of the sofa. As the screen faded to black she'd nudged Jane with her foot.

"Mmmpfff?"

"Bed." She hassled the sleepy detective to her feet and lead her over to the spare room. "Goodnight, Jane," she left her at the door, the soft light of the nightlight glowing from inside.

"Maura," Jane's voice was husky with sleep. She reached out and took Maura's hand, gently stopping her as she turned to go. "Thank you," she said, quietly, her face softer than Maura had ever seen it. Maura had only nodded, and they'd stayed, joined that way for a long moment, before Jane had squeezed her hand and dropped it with a sigh, and they'd both retreated to their own beds. Maura lay awake for some time, staring out into the darkness. Something new had grown up between them that hadn't quite been there before. _Trust. _It was all there in the new careful way they touched each other._ Jane trusts me. She lets me care for her, even when she pushes away her family, colleagues and handsome male protectors. And I trust her, too._

Maura turned off the water in a hurry. She knew it at once with absolute certainty. There was no _way_ Agent Dean had things covered the way he'd confidently assumed he had. That wasn't who Jane was at all. She dried her hair and chose a pair of last-season's castaways, stopping only to collect the sleepy looking mongrel from her nest in the middle of one of Maura's designer armchairs, as well as the other more fragile gift she'd picked up for Jane and all but ran for the car. She only hoped she'd make it there in time.

"Hey," she smiled, letting Jo race in ahead of her.

"Hey," came the surprised voice emanating from the dirty, desolate detective, slumped on the floor of her ruined apartment. Maura crouched beside her, deciding not to address the bandage on Jane's neck or the misery on her face just yet.

"I wanted you to see for yourself what extraordinary creatures these are," she handed Jane her own version of Bass in a small glass container, the only fragile intact possession Jane now owned.

"Uh…thanks?" Jane looked bewildered.

"I thought you might need help cleaning up," she managed to keep her voice light as she gazed tenderly at the detective. _Bruised but not broken. _

"Yeah…" they looked around the trashed apartment together. Maura helped her up.

"Alright. Um, let me get you some work clothes," Jane surveyed her. Maura was surprised.

"These _are_ my work clothes." Jane looked her up and down and she couldn't help shimmying under her gaze. "You don't like?" she tilted her head, innocently. It was wrong, she knew it was, but there was a victory in this moment. Agent Dean was alone in some hotel room somewhere and Jane's eyes were raking over Maura instead, a small smirk hovering over her lips. The detective turned away, refusing to answer, instead focussing on her latest addition to her new menagerie.

"Aw…they are kind of cute when they're small," she admitted.

"I told you," Maura stepped in closer, drawing Jane's eyes back to her again. "_So_…where do you want me to start?" she surprised them both with the innuendo in her voice. In her happiness and relief, she just couldn't seem to help flirting with Jane. It just seemed to flow from her all over again. Jane was alive and she wasn't disappearing into the sunset with Dean. Both threats had suddenly receded until all that was left, were Jane and Maura. Two women who trusted each other. _Finally. _

Jane seemed lost for words. She looked around the apartment considering the offer. Maura could almost see the wheels turning. "Come on," she decided.

"…What…?" Maura was still not quite sure where Jane's own mind had ended up.

"Let's go get a Bloody Mary," the detective shrugged. "We always said we need to do something outside a crime scene." Maura looked blank. "This is a crime scene," Jane pointed out.

"…Great!" Maura almost laughed, not quite sure why she felt so nervous. She and Jane…in a bar…drinking cocktails together, for the first time, again…_like a date!_ her brain had happily concluded before she caught up with it and neatly quashed the thought. _Like a friend date. Which was what I'd wanted from the start. _Maura returned to priorities. "Um, but…dressed like that?" she followed Jane to the door, taking in the grime all over her skin and hair and clothes. Jane looked at her flatly and cocked her hip, imitating Maura's flirtatious voice and pose.

"These _are_ my going out clothes."

* * *

><p>"I don't want to talk about Hoyt," Jane started as soon as they sat down, Jo safely stowed under the detective's feet. Maura blinked.<p>

"Okay," she swirled the celery stalk in her drink.

"I hate that fucking bastard," Jane glowered. Maura just nodded, taking a sip of the spicy beverage Jane had insisted on. "I shot him through the hands," she added with a glare, and Maura swallowed. She had a strong stomach of course, but Bloody Mary's while discussing Jane's near murder and bloodshed were a little much. She pushed the drink away.

"Oh," was all she had. Her eyes dropped to Jane's own hands, where the detective was ferociously rubbing at her scars.

"Yeah," Jane caught her look. "So now we match," she all but growled, rolling her shoulders back and cracking her neck in a truly terrible attempt at nonchalance.

"You could have killed him," Maura pointed out. "It would have been self-defence." Jane bit down on her straw and drained half her drink before she responded.

"Yeah." Maura waited, but apparently that was the full response she was getting.

"You…had mercy on him," she realised.

"I don't want to _be_ him," Jane was vehement. Maura's hand reached out and held Jane's across the table. If she was allowed to touch Jane, as apparently she now was, then she would take that opportunity every time she saw fit. Jane looked up, her eyes a little less hard. "There are lots of ways to kill someone," her voice was quiet. "You can just straight up murder a person, or you can take away everything they have and everything that makes them who they are. I'm not letting him win, Maura."

She squeezed Jane's fingers. "Oh. You're one of those maudlin drunks, aren't you, Jane?" Jane choked on her drink, pulling her hand back to thump herself in the chest. She shook her head, a laugh spluttering from her lips.

"I'm trying to pour my soul out here," she protested. Maura shrugged.

"And here I thought we were finally socialising," she shot her a disappointed look. "But if this is what you're like when you're drinking, then I might just have to ask someone else to buy me a drink instead," she cocked her head towards an attractive looking man in a suit who'd been eyeing them since they'd walked in. Jane raised an eyebrow at her.

"Be my guest," she replied archly. "I'm still the one who's going home with you tonight," a tiny smirk ghosted across her lips as Maura flushed.

"You sound very sure of yourself, Detective," she bluffed. "He's certainly better dressed than you are, and at the rate you're going, he's bound to be far more of a cheerful conversationalist."

"Yes," Jane countered. "But I figure I'm a shoe-in for the pity vote," she shrugged. "His home probably hasn't just been destroyed by murderers and he's not covered in scrapes and burns he got while fighting for his life- No, Maura, wait!" she drew in a sharp breath as Maura shifted as if to stand up. "Jeez," she muttered. "I thought chicks were supposed to dig scars." Maura eyed her, waiting. Jane lifted her hands in surrender. "Okay! I'll buy you another drink. That weird pink thing I remember you liked so much."

Their eyes met, and this time they were both blushing. Something had definitely shifted if they were not only flirting, but Jane was also referencing their one and only date. Maura bit her lip. "I'll have a gin and tonic for now, thank you Jane."

* * *

><p>They'd practically fallen in the front door of Maura's house, Jo slinking off in distaste as they laughed and pushed at each other like drunk teenagers, while Jane did her impressions of both herself saying "No" in forty-seven belligerent ways and Agent Dean's surprised, wounded expression as she shot him down.<p>

"No!" gasped Maura herself as Jane reached for the fridge door, her fingers circling around the detective's wrist. "You're going to feel terrible tomorrow as it is! No more, I'm cutting you off." Jane surveyed her in amusement.

"You're slightly tipsy there yourself I believe, _doctor," _Maura only realised how close they were standing when Jane's finger reached out and tapped her lightly on the nose to emphasise her point. She dropped her hold on Jane and backed away quickly, pouring them both a large glass of water. Jane took hers with a sigh and wandered over to the living room. Maura watched for the exact moment that Jane's eyes flickered over the couch before she quickly slumped into one of the armchairs instead. Following her over, she did the same.

While as a doctor Maura could hardly condone encouraging drinking as a way to deal with the fall out of trauma, it appeared that flirting was definitely a successful way to turn Jane's mood around. It helped that they were both so _good_ at it. They understood each other so well that they knew all the right triggers to press, and exactly how to phrase the tiny innuendoes that could cause the other woman's jaw to drop. It was like a whole other side of their friendship had been switched back on and Maura loved it. They knew just how far to push each other.

_And when to stop_. Facing each other across Maura's lounge room, the awareness of the dangerous couch and the waiting bedrooms, along with the accumulated weight of all the evening's hints and teases caused both women suddenly to become very sober indeed. Jane seemed lost in contemplating the shape and structure of her water glass while Maura worried at a chip in her nail polish for a full minute. Their eyes met.

"So…goodnight then," Jane gazed at her intently, without moving.

"Goodnight!" Maura stood and fled to her room, closing the door behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Ergh. Back in the real world, knocking this stuff out between having to...WORK FOR A LIVING (swoons dramatically).**

**Thank you for your very kind and wonderful reviews. They make me really happy every time. So thank you. Humbly, gratefully and with HEAPS of xxxxxxx's and oooooo's.**

**Split this one in two again...go make a cuppa in the middle, yes?**

* * *

><p>Once again, it started in the gym - a persistent chipping away at Jane's precarious sense of equilibrium, until she felt like her very last refuge from the harassment of the world had been taken from her. And this time, it wasn't just Korsak.<p>

"Oh for chrissakes Jane, I can lift more than that!" her ex-partner looked disgusted. Jane rolled her eyes.

"_Fine_," she replied, moving the peg in the machine down a notch. "Just don't give yourself a hernia."

Korsak pulled down on the shoulder press, straining somewhat, while trying to look relaxed. Jane took the machine next to him, pulling smoothly at the handles. She could see Korsak's arms shaking next to her, but she tactfully looked straight ahead instead. _Big mistake. _Across the room Maura was on the treadmill, running far too casually for someone at that speed. Her back was perfectly straight and her feet hit the treadmill lightly as her slim thighs flexed, tapering down into shapely calves - _oh good god those shorts - _Jane was transfixed. No one else in the police gym looked anywhere near that good while working out.

"Jane… …._Jane!" _Korsak's voice broke slowly into her thoughts and she flinched. He'd let go of the machine and had turned sideways on the seat, staring at her oddly. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she pulled down again trying to reestablish her rhythm, glancing at a safe spot on the floor. Korsak stayed where he was.

"Are you sure?" he pushed. "You've been zoning out a lot recently," his voice dropped a little, into his patented concerned, wise, older man-of-the-world voice that Jane especially hated when he directed it towards her. "Hoyt coming back…it hasn't been giving you flashbacks again, has it?" She dropped the handles, letting the weights fall with a loud clang.

"No, Korsak. I'm fine, alright? Or I would be if everyone would just let go and quit bothering me about it every fifteen seconds." Korsak eyed her disapprovingly.

"It's important to talk about it," he instructed her. "It might feel to you like it stirs things up, but it's better out than in." She glared at him.

"That's enough talk about your bowel problems for now, yoda," she tried to concentrate on her workout. "Since when are you an expert in psychology anyway?"

"Well, Dr. Isles says that…some study - I forget who or where - but, this study she read said that-" at the mention of Maura's name, Jane's eyes flicked up again and focussed on her friend who was cooling down now, running at a moderately slower pace. Her eyes trailed up the doctor's slim body - _seriously, why with those shorts - _up the flat planes of her tensed abdomen, and up again…Jane swallowed, hard. Watching Maura run was really…wonderful. She lost track of time, though eventually her gaze trailed upward again, taking in the gleam of sweat in the hollow of her throat, the ends of her ponytail flicking backwards and forwards against her shoulder, her warmly flushed skin, her parted lips as she breathed, and _oh crap, _her eyes sparkling straight back into hers with obvious amusement. Jane stuck out her tongue and Maura wobbled slightly on the treadmill, before making a face back at her, and slowing the machine to a stop.

"Ignore me all you want, Jane, I'm just saying I'm here if you want to talk," Korsak huffed beside her, and she jerked her eyes back from Maura's thorough towelling off across the room.

"I'm not-" she tried. "I'm sorry Korsak. It's just…I'm really, I'm good, okay? Hoyt's back where he belongs, my cuts and burns are all healed and…we're good, so just…we're _good," _she concluded. _Ouch, _she eased the machine back into place, having lost count of her reps way too long ago. _I'm going to feel that tomorrow, _she winced.

"Well, at least you got your boo to look after you now," Korsak said lightly. Jane got whiplash.

"My _what?" _

"Your boo," he repeated. "Maura," he frowned under Jane's incredulous stare. "What? Women are always calling each other _sweetie_ and _darling_ aren't they? You guys are sweet together," he smiled at her, innocently. Jane narrowed her eyes and tried not to react, fighting the urge to swipe at her face just incase she'd actually, physically drooled on herself just now.

"Yeah, Maura's great," she said shortly, in the tone of someone shutting down the conversation altogether. She really had to work harder at this whole not objectifying Maura thing. _At least, not in public_, she amended silently. "And it's good to see you and Frost getting along better as well. About time you had a _boo_ of your very own."

That shut him up. Maura threw a smile over her shoulder at her as she headed over to the corner to commence what Jane knew from painful experience was a twenty minute ordeal of Jane trying not to bite through her own lip as her flexible friend smoothly contorted her body in series of long, languid stretches. _Christ. _ Jane decided to forgo stretching herself today and hit the showers before Maura got there. There was no way she'd accept having to go through _that_ experience again.

* * *

><p>Jane's week, over all, was not going well. There were lots of reasons, she told herself. A possible return of the Boston Strangler would be reason enough on its own. Then there was fucking Joey Grant - of all people - turning up and announcing he'd taken over from Hoff as Lieutenant, not to mention the ensuing shitstorm that followed, like having to accept command from a guy she'd known was a douche since kindergarten, while he leapt all over her solid police work with his political aspirations. Her mother was gearing up on yet another campaign about Jane being unmarried and childless, and both of them were mutually distressed by Frankie nipping at her heels at work. The case continued to go badly, so all in all, there were plenty of reasons to feel cranky. Not <em>all<em> of them had to do with Maura breaking what Jane had always thought was another of their unspoken rules and dating a guy from work for the first time. A detective, at that, albeit from Drugs. Jane had never realised how much she'd depended on that rule for her peace of mind until this weekend when she'd had to witness the two of them flirting wildly at baseball.

She was fine with Maura dating, of course she was. It was just…did she have to do it in front of her? Flaunting it like that? Jane told herself that nothing else about the situation bugged her, but still somehow the very second Nate had smarmed onto the doctor and Maura had flashed those eyes at him, Jane had wanted to punch him in his stupid smug face. Why did Maura have to rock up to baseball wearing a skin tight bodysuit of all things? Couldn't she wear something more suitable? Jane thought preferably it would involve a burlap sack, and maybe a paperbag over her head if that's what it would take for men to not notice how goddamn gorgeous Maura Isles was.

"Oh my god, you're _flirting_ over a dead body," she'd tried to keep her disapproval mild.

"When else am I going to do it?" Maura had asked, her question genuine. It was true, they'd been working ridiculous hours of late, and Jane had gotten complacent about having such prolonged contact with her friend. Maybe it was for the best, she reflected, that the flirting and dating did happen in front of her. Anything to remind her fevered brain to cool it, just a little.

First Korsak was making odd remarks about their friendship and then only last night when she'd walked into the morgue to see Maura gently trying to guide Frost into overcoming his gut reaction to dead bodies, Frost had looked up and practically fled the room when Jane had interrupted. At first she thought he was just using her presence as an excuse to get away from the corpse, muttering quickly about not wanting to be in their way before bolting. However when she'd gone back upstairs for a bit of overtime herself, feeling slightly too smug in her new knowledge that Maura had accidentally screwed things up with Nate by diagnosing him with some kind of terrible disorder over dinner, Frost was still acting jittery.

"You alright?" she frowned at him when he walked past her desk in the otherwise empty squad room, pausing for the fifth time in half an hour. He jumped.

"What? Oh, yeah…" he stayed where he was, surveying her face for a moment, before his eyes slid away and he swallowed.

"Frost…?"

"I just…there's nothing going on, you know that right?" Jane tilted her head.

"Nothing going on?" she asked confused. He shifted his shoulders slightly.

"With Dr. Isles."

"What's not going on with Dr. Isles?" her eyebrow twitched.

"In the morgue, just now," he explained, as if it were obvious. "She was just helping me out, you know what she's like. It wasn't…anything." Now Jane was really confused. She replayed the scene quickly in her head. She'd walked in and Maura had been standing closely behind Frost, her arms around his body, helping him hold the scalpel as they leaned over the corpse. Jane carefully held in a snort of laughter. _Oh, Frost…_

"I…I know Frost. Maura just wants you to be okay with the gory stuff so the other cops stop hassling you," she spoke levelly. She tried to keep the sympathy out of her voice. She knew all too well, what it felt like to have heart palpitations and impure thoughts whenever Maura got too close. She knew that Dr. Isles would have been oblivious to Frost's discomfort, or if she'd noticed she'd have just written it off as a typical, natural male response to the proximity of a female body. Poor Frost. He looked all of a sudden like he'd just been told it wasn't malignant.

"Oh, cool," his shoulders slumped. "I didn't want you to get the wrong idea and like, _accidentally _shoot me or something."

"Don't be ridiculous," she smirked at him. _Wait, what? _"Uh…why would _I_…shoot you?" It dawned on her that Frost seemed to be getting at something. He looked alarmed.

"Oh, no, no reason, Jane. You just…I know how you get when guys try anything on her and I wouldn't-"

"How I _get?_" Jane's voice cracked. Frost shifted.

"Uh…protective," he tried. "You're protective of her, and- nothing. Forget I said anything."

Jane nodded curtly and Frost escaped to his desk. It wasn't easy to forget it however. Suddenly it seemed she was obvious to everyone. The next morning their suspect's mother had called her a "skinny, greaseball, dyke detective," which was just a variation on the usual crap she got as a cop, but it was Frost gearing up to defend her that unnerved her. It was irritating. She and Maura were best friends, and that was all she really wanted. She'd fended off her attraction to her for well over a year, so she was sure that at some point soon it would start to wane. The fact that the feeling was only getting worse was just proof of that. It wasn't sustainable; Maura would meet someone for real sometime soon, and Jane would have to lick her wounds and retreat but when presented with the evidence, her body would catch up and face the facts, the same as her brain had done. Her heart, on the other hand didn't quite bear thinking about, just now.

* * *

><p>She began to take it out on Maura almost right away. Of course she did. She could handle Maura looking gorgeous - which of course she was, her hair softly loose and luxurious, her legs bare and a modest hint of cleavage in that black dress as she bent over the latest strangling victim in the chair - but what she couldn't handle right now, was Maura being <em>adorable. <em>Which, of course, she was as well. She'd picked up on Jane's irritation, and without commenting on it she simply tried in a hundred tiny ways to improve her friend's mood, entirely unaware that the sweeter her actions, the tenser Jane became. _Stop it, just stop…being you, please?_

She slumped against the living room wall of the victim's house, her arms folded. "Thanks for pointing out the bright side," she shot Frost down sarcastically as he too tried to jolly her along, despite the disaster this case was turning into. Maura perked up.

"Researchers at the University of Pittsburgh have proven that optimistic people live longer," she smiled hopefully up at Jane, her eyes sparkling happily as she offered her the tip.

"So she was a pessimist?" Jane asked flatly, nodding at the dead body between them. Maura looked disappointed, looking down and returning to her work in silence. _Asshole, I'm an asshole… _They argued, again, an issue that seemed to be raising its head more often than not of late. Not their old, embittered battle for control, but more of a constant low grade sniping. Jane wished she knew a better way of venting a year's worth of unalleviated sexual tension, but there it was. Cranky Jane, it appeared, was here to stay.

* * *

><p>As soon as the ex-Detective-now-seasoned-murderer Lahey was escorted from the room, Jane's adrenaline from bashing him with a baseball bat had started to fade, leaving her feeling drained. She looked over and saw that even as Maura tried to pack up her handbag, her hands were still shaking. <em>It's all over.<em> All of it - the fight, the case and also Jane's willpower. It took her just two seconds to cross the room, gently remove the bag from Maura's hands and pull the other woman into her arms.

There were so many things she wanted to say just then - _Thank god you're alive, _being chief among them, with _This is where being too sweet and adorable for your own goddamn good gets you - almost dead, and then me being unable to let you go - _coming a not so distant second_. _She'd strode down to see Maura as she'd realised the evidence hadn't held up, only to find Lahey holding the doctor at gunpoint, since Maura had been so concerned for his health she'd wound up accidentally destroying his alibi. Maura, with a loaded gun trained on her was a sight Jane hoped desperately never to see again. For the first time in weeks Jane had been thoroughly grateful for her infatuation with the doctor and for the closeness of their friendship, because as a result she knew without a doubt that they would win this thing. Lahey had the gun, but she and Maura could carry out entire conversations with just their eyes. She caused the distraction, Maura grabbed the scalpel and stabbed him in the thigh, kicking away his dropped gun while Jane went for the bat, taking him out in two brutal swings, barely stopping herself from taking the third one to his head. _This is just how I get, after all, _she reflected, seeing now why Frost had been so afraid of her.

Maura leaned into the hug, resting her face on her shoulder. Jane just held her, feeling her tremor start to ease. Without quite being able to stop herself, she dropped a light kiss onto the top of Maura's hair, before looking up to catch a slight movement in the corner of her eye. Frost, disappearing back out the door, clearly having come to check they were alright. Jane sighed internally, knowing whatever his suspicions were, they'd probably not been lessened by the sight. It didn't really matter either way. The sight of Maura under threat had clarified things for her even further, in a way that just made her feel tired. All the lust and misplaced longing in the world didn't change the fact that she loved Maura terribly. Loved her enough to suffer in silence for goddamn forever if that's what it took.

"Come on," she pulled back. "Let's go have a drink."


	14. Chapter 14

Jane lay in bed days later, still unable to sleep. It had been a long week and she was exhausted, but her brain wouldn't stop whirring. She wanted it to stop, but Maura seemed to be occupying her mind even more than usual. Somewhere between the threat of losing her and how undeniably gorgeous she'd looked the other night sitting across the table from her in the Dirty Robber as they teased each other, Jane just couldn't get her off her mind. She winced as she remembered her secret thrill of happiness as Maura admitted she was refusing to see Nate again, purely based on the fact she didn't date _patients_, which made Jane snort into her beer.

"You gotta stop that, you gotta stop diagnosing people," Jane had eyed her. An uncomfortable expression took over Maura's face for a second.

"Can we just talk about your love life for a second…I…" she waved her hand clearly not wanting to continue. Jane took a big breath.

"Okay. I date two kinds," she reminded Maura. She'd told her this a long time ago. On their date, in fact. "The kind that hates that I'm a cop and the kind that wants me to use the handcuffs." Maura looked coy. _There was one other kind, once. But I fucked it up, so now I'm just screwed, aren't I?_ Jane demonstrated, rebuffing not one but two approaching men with her _Hey boys, I'm a cop_ routine. Maura had laughed in delight, gazing at her warmly above her wineglass as she sipped. Jane had just basked for a second, enjoying her ability to bring that look to Maura's eyes, until Joey had turned up and interrupted them, looking very sorry for having made a dick of himself by attempting to steal Jane's thunder.

Maura had looked between them and given her several unsubtle knowing stares, which Jane had ignored until Joey had admitted right there in front of Maura, that back when they were eight years old, he'd been staring at Jane, not cheating from her catechism paper. As he'd walked away Maura had laughed, giving her a googly-eyed stare. _A boy likes you! _she'd practically sang.

"Oh shut up," she'd glared, but it was too late, the seed was firmly planted in Maura's brain, she could practically see it take root. From then on, she'd been unstoppable. Or so it seemed. Maura had been relentless, talking Joey up and the attraction she'd decided Jane had toward him, but somewhere beneath the surface, Jane picked up a hint of something else entirely. Maura, it seemed, in her polite, carefully guarded way, _hated_ Joey Grant. Jane couldn't quite tell what was going on. On the one hand, she acted as though Jane and Joe were star-crossed childhood sweethearts who were cosmically fated for each other. Yet, on the other, she belittled the Lieutenant constantly, politely humiliating him by discussing his _bolus lesions _in front of Jane, and finding tiny ways to insult him while seeming outwardly to compliment him.

They were in the morgue together when out of nowhere Maura asked,"Do you think Lieutenant Grant is sexy? You know, in a male kind of way?" she turned her back as Jane's eyebrows hit the top of her head. _In a male way? What precisely are you insinuating Maura Isles? _

"Do you like him?" Jane deflected, brusquely. _Let's not play the Jane is a giant lesbian game again right now, please._

"Not my type," Maura returned at once to discussing the autopsy conclusions - or lack thereof - leaving Jane is seethe silently at Maura's obvious dig. They began to snipe again, to-ing and fro-ing as Maura continued what Jane felt was a blatant display of passive-aggressive workplace behaviour, refusing to give her a straight answer or even mildly hypothesising.

"God, _woman!" _Jane hissed. She tried to explain her total lack of interest in Joe Grant and Maura seemed to thaw a little as they traded childhood stories about their playground nicknames, but it didn't last long. Maura seemed intent on punishing her for something, snipping at her and shushing her by holding up one finger like an irritable librarian, leaving Jane to march out none the wiser as to a cause of death for her fifteen year old victim. Whatever bug was up Maura's ass, she hoped she'd get over it soon.

* * *

><p>Maura was on overdrive all that week. Jane had never seen her so hyper. Every time they were together there were facts and figures pouring out of her non-stop, like a gate had opened somewhere inside her. She proceeded to show off her ridiculous propensity for languages, communicating to the Cape Verdean mother of the murder victim in her own tongue, and capped it off with an attempt at displaying her street cred with a diatribe on the origin of gang names. The effect was somewhat ruined by by the tiny wisp of marshmallow fluff stuck to her lip, from the sandwich that she'd stolen from Jane and which had promptly seemed to blow her giant mind. When she wasn't stuck literally wanting to kiss the sweetness from Maura's mouth, Jane could only stand back and marvel, a little unsure as to what the fuck was going on. She wasn't quite able to stop herself from being impressed all the same, not to mention amused and a tiny bit turned on. <em>When and how exactly did I end up with such a nerd fetish? <em>she wondered.

Maura's increasingly odd behaviour brought out the best and worst in Jane all at once. It made her all the more protective, firmly holding her back when she first heard the weird hissing sound in the parking garage that turned out to be her car filled with poisonous snakes, and instantly shielding her friend's body from danger when the church they'd been standing in was firebombed. The playfulness of it also brought out her brattish flirting at full throttle, bullishly forcing Maura to make guesses about difficult things like the cause of death despite her obvious discomfort, and behaving like a child at the church service purely because of the way it allowed them to grab at each other's hands and arms as they wriggled and shushed each other.

_ I need to get laid, _Jane reflected with a groan. It was an uncomfortable truth that she'd rather have died than admit, but she hadn't slept with anyone since Maura. It wasn't like there was some kind of moral problem she had with casual sex; in the past she'd often enjoyed it, in fact. And it might not be a total cure but Jane was fairly convinced it might relieve at least some of the constant ache of tension she was experiencing around Maura if she could just go out and pick herself up a one night stand. She found herself strangely resistant to the idea however. _I'm afraid it will be a disappointment,_ she admitted to herself. If having sex with someone else only caused her to reflect on how much better it had been with Maura then that would only make everything worse. _How fucking depressing, _she thought, _no sex or disappointing sex. _Jane groaned and rolled over, trying in vain to get some sleep.

* * *

><p>When she walked into her mother's house in the rather gorgeous - even Jane had to admit it - little black dress she'd been coerced into buying, only to find it was in honour of Joey Grant, Jane had just about despaired. <em>This is what it's come to? <em>Both her best friend and her mother seemed apparently convinced that this average looking man she'd known for almost thirty years was suddenly supposed to morph into the man of her dreams and yet Jane felt…nothing...for him. _Should I feel something? _she wondered. _Is there something there that I can't see? _She resolved for once, to try. It couldn't hurt. Anything, she thought, to get Maura off her mind. She sat down next to him and tried to let the effect of the dress and the way he was looking at her, be enough. He was okay, Joe Grant, really, if she wasn't being an asshole about it. He was trying to flirt with her even. He cracked a joked about having broken in the window to sneak dinner with her and she laughed, despite herself.

"Yeah, you always were funny," she remembered. She flirted with him a little to see how it felt. It felt okay. He turned on the charm, telling her she looked _perfect_, smiling into her eyes, being sweet, bonding with her about mothers as Jane bitched about their both being gypped into this date by her scheming parent.

"She just wants you to be happy, that's all," he said and it was out before she could stop herself.

"Well, no offence, but I don't need a guy to make me happy." He looked at her flatly.

"And no one's proposing here, so…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Joe just looked at her, unable to answer, but she already knew. He was saying, _don't jump to conclusions Jane Rizzoli, you're not that special._ And it was fair enough; he wasn't remotely special to her either. They could continue on with dinner, they could even wander out afterward for drinks and she could invite him upstairs and they could sleep together, and it would be fine. It would be _okay_. Nothing more, nothing less. _Why are we doing this again?_

"This is a bad idea, huh?" Joey had obviously come to the same conclusion. She pushed away her cutlery.

"Yes. _Yes. _This is a bad idea."

"Fine, I'll go," he caved promptly, sounding almost relieved. "Tell your ma I said sorry."

"Tell her yourself," Jane stood, grabbing both the bottle of wine, and on second thoughts the flowers, and left, without a doubt in her mind just who she really wanted to see her in a little black dress.

* * *

><p>It had worked too. She'd sent a quick text ascertaining that Maura was indeed working late, stuck as she was with the impossible task Jane had set her of testing individually through thousands of possible barely detectable toxins for a cause of death. When Jane had walked in, nonchalantly, in her date dress, with her date wine and her date flowers, Maura had dropped the textbook she was holding, along with her jaw. Jane smirked at her.<p>

"Got any glasses stashed around here, Dr. Isles?"

"Jane," her name was breathed, rather than spoken. "You look…"

"...Maura… …glasses?" Jane had prodded when the sentence remained inconclusive. Maura blinked and turned away, returning from her office with two large wineglasses. _Such a good girl scout, Maura Isles,_ Jane had grinned at her. Work momentarily abandoned, Maura took the bottle from Jane, their fingers brushing as Jane held onto it a second too long.

"I thought it was family dinner night?" Maura asked, an eyebrow raised, as she poured. Jane rolled her eyes.

"So did I," she confirmed. "Turns out that my mother - like _you_," she gave her a pointed stare, "thinks Joe Grant is the man for me, and it was a set-up. Me, Joey and a romantic dinner for two, in my family's living room." Maura's eyes lit up.

"It didn't go so well?" Jane picked up on the slightly too happy way in which Maura pronounced the question but ignored it.

"No," was all she said. "It was not the best date I've ever had, let's put it that way."

"Oh Jane, I'm sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "You should really give it another shot though," she persisted. Jane sighed. She couldn't work Maura out _at all_.

"Any luck on the lab results?" she turned the conversation to safer grounds.

"None whatsoever," Maura looked far less thrilled all of a sudden. "I'm going to be pulling an all-nighter trying to figure this out." Jane shrugged.

"Me too," she admitted. "Might as well since my date _sucked_." Maura looked up.

"Let's take this back to my place," she suggested. "I just need my computer and you can take the case files. We can combine it: work and dinner and a sleepover. It'll be fun!" she sounded pleased with herself.

"I…well, okay," Jane agreed, though a night at Maura's might not be for the best, all things considered. But if they laid off the wine and concentrated on work, it should be safe enough she decided. "Bit of a waste of a little black dress though, huh?" she lied, before giving an imitation of Joey's crappy attempts at complimenting her with lines about harassment charges. Maura burst out laughing. Jane attempted to look wounded.

"Why are you laughing? No, I mean seriously, do I look stupid?" she stepped back, posing, giving Maura her best sad puppy eyes knowing full well the doctor had been gazing at her for almost five perfectly uninterrupted minutes by now.

"No, are you kidding? Really? You don't know?" Maura was onto her, but she gave her what she wanted anyway. "You're gorgeous…my _friend_," she tacked on carefully, as if to stop Jane from jumping to any conclusions based on the way Maura was glowing, her dimples in full force, unveiled adoration blazing from her eyes for the first time in weeks.

"Then why are you laughing?" she protested, starting to laugh herself. "Well…tell my mother that," she amended. "She thinks I'm some sort of pity project." _You and her both, apparently._

"She just loves you, that's all," Maura's eyes were warm and for a moment Jane thought she could read something unexpected there. Maura quickly changed the subject. "Want some cheese?" she asked and Jane recoiled.

"No. Ew, not out of the dead fridge, no!" They teased and argued about her mother - and also Maura, though Jane didn't say it out loud - trying to foist her off on such an unsuitable candidate. Maura was smiling joyously at her the entire time and Jane felt that Joey had clearly served a purpose in a way, just like Dean had. They could drink wine alone at night together, and tease and gaze and flirt and laugh - basically having the date Jane had wished she could have had - all without having to confront any underlying truths about their relationship. Maura seemed so relaxed and happy, finally. She still secretly liked pleasing Maura, no matter how it came about. Even if it meant continuing to have to defend herself as to why she'd walked out on a specimen as utterly average as Joe Grant.

"…You get rid of guys if they have receding gums!" she pointed out.

"That's true…" Maura admitted.

"That is true," Jane said pointedly. Maura seemed to be rejecting men left right and centre these days, uncovering genetic disorders and minor dental abnormalities…why did Jane have to accept being pushed into situations with men against her will?

"But you're always complaining that the guys you date don't understand or like your job, and he respects you," Maura wouldn't give it up.

"Stop," Jane meant it. There was still something going on here, and goddamnit if she wasn't going to work it out one way or another.

"Really!" Maura protested. "You think that he's this political animal but it's just that it comes out of him when he's around you, because he wants to _impress_ you. It's mating behaviour. I think it's _sweet,"_ she narrowed her eyes in challenge. Jane took a sip of her wine. Aside from the fact that she'd never heard Maura be so blatantly condescending about anyone ever before, she knew that Maura realised perfectly well that describing a man as nothing more than a sweet_,_ simple-minded primate was possibly the best way to turn her off someone.

"I think you're insane," Jane concluded honestly. "I'm off to solve a murder," she put down her wine and threw up her hands, heading upstairs to grab the files before meeting Maura at her place.

"Nightlight on or off?" Maura called after her.

"_On,"_ Jane winced, unsure as to what the biggest cause of her nightmares would be tonight - the story of the flesh-eating bacteria Maura had told her about earlier, snakes under her bed, or waking up screaming realising she'd been married off to Joe Grant. "I can't wait til we solve this one," Jane silently included Maura's inexplicable behaviour in with that wish.

She been standing upstairs rifling through her desk when it had all clicked into place and she sat down with a thud. _Maura doesn't want me to move on._ For a moment she forgot to breathe. _She set me up with Dean, but almost decided to seduce him herself instead. She's trying to act like Joe Grant is a serious option for me, but she undermines him every chance she gets. She's been in hyperdrive all week, showing off in her Maura way, because despite everything, she doesn't want to lose my attention on her. _An unexpected jolt of anger passed through her. _Maura doesn't want me_, she reminded herself. _Not like that. It's okay for her to sleep around and even pick up men right in front of me, but she wants to keep me the way I am…devoted to her, alone. _It wasn't fair.

How fucking obvious had she been? Drooling over Maura's body in the gym and at crime scenes, her temper flaring every time a man looked Maura's way, flirting and sulking intermittently? Maura had never had a best friend before but surely she knew these weren't the normal parameters of friendship. Best friends loved each other, they had sleepovers, they trusted each other, they touched casually, so far so good. But they also had romantic partners, they were happy for each other when the other person dated someone, they didn't get jealous about it. They didn't try and sabotage things or manipulate each other to keep the other purely to themselves.

It would be one thing if she thought Maura harboured feelings for her - Jane's heart just about stopped at the thought - but at the rate Maura chewed through men, Jane knew that wasn't what was going on here. _I love you Maura Isles, _she thought, _but I'm not your play toy to set up and knock down at will. I'm just not some puppy dog who'll follow you around. _It would be better to put some careful guards back in place. Even Maura's innocent "_nightlight on or off?" _looked like a simple claim to ownership from this angle. _He's sweet and all, but I know you're mine._ She sent Maura a brief text, changing plans and blaming her work load, then took the files home instead.

* * *

><p>It wasn't her fault that she had nightmares. It also wasn't her fault that her nightmares, while irrational, appeared to hold the potential to crack the case. And it definitely wasn't her fault that to crack the case - and also, quite possibly, to cure her nightmares - she needed Maura Isles. She'd phoned her right out of sleep before realising she wasn't supposed to be doing that right now. She'd almost called her back to cancel but her skin was still prickling and the goddamn vase of flowers was still in ruins on the kitchen floor, proving what? Proving she was going crazy? When Maura turned up looking somewhere between gorgeous and adorable in her tiny gold pyjamas, she'd proved very little help at all.<p>

"There are almost always explanations for these phenomena," she'd started.

"Almost?" Jane huffed. "Maybe I am losing my mind."

"I can do a brain scan, if you would like."

"Thank you, that's very helpful."

She redirected Maura to where she could be the most use: indulging Jane's demand that Maura look for the cause of death for their investigation in Jane's dream symbolism. _If you can be unreasonable and make unfair use of your undue influence over me, then I can do the same. _Maura hit on a possible solution right away, which meant technically, her work there was done. Except for how it was three a.m and Jane had dragged her out of bed and across town in her pyjamas on a whim.

_Huh,_ she reflected. _I'm mad that Maura expects me to drop anyone and everything for her, but I expect the same back. And I always get it. _Feeling confused and somewhat contrite, she made them both a hot chocolate in the Italian style - with enough chocolate to keep them awake for hours rather than soothe them to sleep. Maura's eyes were heavy lidded though, so Jane, rolling her eyes inwardly at herself, asked her friend to bed.

_No sleep for me then. _Jane was more than aware of Maura's soft slow breathing in the dark beside her, and the gentle shifting of the mattress as the doctor turned in her sleep. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could easily make out Maura's features on the pillow next to hers, from the heavy curve of her eyelashes, to her soft relaxed mouth, and for a moment she forgot to breathe. _Agent Dean…averagely attractive. Joey Grant…averagely average. Maura Isles…breathtaking_. _Goddamnit._ Jane needed to look away. Five minutes later, she still needed to look away. Finally she turned her back, bouncing against the mattress a little harder than she needed to. Next to her Maura murmured in her sleep and she buried in closer, her breath teasing the back of Jane's neck, her hand coming to rest on Jane's hip, before settling low against her abdomen, warm fingers relaxed against her burning skin. Jane scrunched her eyes closed, trying to ignore the goosebumps that had arisen, as well as her painfully hard nipples and the uncomfortably slippery state of affairs that Maura's touch never failed to bring with it. She lay there for hours, as her whole body throbbed.

* * *

><p>It became a game, all the way from the squad room to the parking garage.<p>

"_No_, I don't lie," Maura insisted when Jane suggested she verbally fudge things a little in the interest of finally solving the murder enquiry.

"It's not a _lie_."

"Yes it is. I know when it is. I start to hyperventilate."

"Okay, it's a white lie," Jane conceded.

"It's still a lie!" Jane decided to test this theory.

"You've never lied to a guy and told him he was good when he wasn't?" The elevator doors pinged open.

"No," Maura sounded surprised at the possibility. Jane looked sideways at her as they stepped into the elevator, realising yet another reason Maura rarely seemed to go on second dates.

"You like this shirt with this jacket?" Maura's eyes raked over her, experimentally.

"Not really, no." The door closed them in together. Jane would have to make this harder for her. Feeling bold in her lingering resentment and thorough lack of sleep she levelled Maura with a firm look.

"Who was your best?" she asked her. "In bed. Ever?" Maura shifted.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Jane," she said primly, shooting her a brief, annoyed glance. Apparently she couldn't lie, but she could evade. Jane moved a little closer to her, looking down. Maura wouldn't meet her eyes and there was a firey blush creeping up her neck which told Jane everything she needed to know. She moved closer still.

"Was it me?" she husked, her eyes not leaving her face. Maura stared ahead resolutely. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Her breath began speeding up and Jane refused to look away. Only when Maura's breathing started to come in small gasps and pants and she leaned her hand on the wall, looking panicked did Jane start to worry.

"Woah, jesus, you weren't exaggerating!" She took hold of Maura's arm gently, turning her to look at her. "It's okay, Maur, I was just kidding around. You don't have to answer," she gazed down at her friend, this time in concern. Maura looked furious at her, but her breathing was slowly returning to normal. For a moment there was only the sound of the elevator creaking its way downward. Jane let go and looked sideways at Maura, whose chest was still heaving, her blush still faintly evident. "That good, huh?" Jane cocked her eyebrow at her, as the doors pinged open and Maura leapt out, stalking ahead to the car. Jane slid into the passenger seat and smirked all the way to the suspect's house.

* * *

><p>Jane peeled off her wet clothes and left them on the bathroom floor where they fell. She waited for the water to heat up, frowning as she relived the moment in her head. Joey on her doorstep, soaked to the bone, claiming he'd <em>liked<em> her for just about forever and announcing he was leaving for DC. It had been a surprisingly nice moment. The look in his eyes was soft and he looked kind of cute and forlorn in the rain. He was leaving, so she almost kissed him, enjoying the blaze of his full attention and open honesty about wanting her after all. It had been a long time since someone had looked at her quite like that. As she reached for his mouth however, something had snagged in her chest. There was definitely something romantic about kissing in the rain, kissing goodbye in the rain at that. But despite all the contradictions of the situation, she wanted more. She deserved more, she was finally becoming sure of it. She didn't want to be the goodbye shag, the no-strings-attached-because-I'm-leaving fling. She didn't want to be the best-friend-with-a-crush, the always-waiting-in-the-wings, boyfriend-substitute that Maura sometimes made her feel like either. She wanted to be the person who was everything to someone and the thought made her flinch. _I'm not ready for a major relationship, but I don't want to be someone's side project either. What the hell DO you want Rizzoli?_

She stepped under the water, letting her shoulders slump as the hot water cascaded through her hair and she began to warm up. She ran her hands over her body, starting slowly to rub at one of her nipples, her eyes unfocussed through the steam. _I don't have any answers, _she realised, as her left hand slid downwards, _because right now, no matter how stupid it is - how stupid and doomed and futile - the only person I really want…is still Maura. Just...Maura. _She began to rub herself in slow circles, finally letting her mind drift to what it wanted. She closed her eyes, rubbing harder. Her mind filled itself greedily with the thoughts she usually tried to force it to deny, the ready stored images she still held in her memory and all the ones her fantasies had invented for her. _Maura was held fast in her lap, their bodies slick with sweat as she pushed up and down hard on Jane's rubber cock, her breasts pushing into Jane's face on every thrust. Maura naked, using Jane's own handcuffs to lock her to the bed,_ Jane groaned in agonised humiliation at the thought, _her thighs straddling Jane's head, just out of reach, touching herself. _Jane's breath was coming in tiny gasps and pants, _my fingers, inside her, everywhere, she's clenching tight around me, she's calling my name, I can taste her, god she tastes so good_, Jane came, hard, leaning her hand on the shower wall, dizzy and disoriented. She turned her face into the water, guilt and longing intermingling until it was all she could do not to cry.


	15. Chapter 15

**Y'know...I sort of rushed this one out. I'm not keen to drag this story out beyond its welcome (er, plus I have a job...) but also, mostly I just really want to get to the episode that's coming up next. You know the one ;)**

**YES, YOU CAN SKIM THIS ONE. IT'S HERE TO FILL IN THE BLANKS FOR THE SAKE OF BEING THOROUGH, BECAUSE PLOT IS PLOT AND I AM A VIRGO. THAT IS ALL.**

* * *

><p><strong>I've had a couple of queries that I was umming and ahhing as to whether to answer. I don't want to give you too many spoilers. But here's what I will say.<strong>

**- This might be following canon, but this story is Rizzles end game all the way, I promise. The actual TV series...well who knows whether they'll ever grow the balls to show us what we all know already is the only true story in this story. Some days I think it'll definitely never happen at ALL and other days I think it's just entirely unavoidable at this point. **

**However. Either way I don't see the point in writing a fic about these two that doesn't eventually end in Rizzles everywhere until there's RIZZLES COMING OUT OF YOUR BOTTOM. Rest assured. It won't happen overnight but it will happen! Most of you are too young to get that reference! Is Rachel Hunter even still alive? Oh god! Oh well! **** Oh kay! **

**- Oh, and someone asked about the title? I uh...it's by one of the truly great lyricists of our time. *cough*gaga*cough* (IT'S ALSO A SPOILER IN ITSELF BUT THAT'S THE LAST ONE YOU'RE GETTING k, bye.)**

* * *

><p>"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Jane was pretty sure it could happen. Two strangers, sweatily exercising; one looks over at the other and decides to start up a flirtatious conversation, much to the other's surprise. <em> Anything could come from that, right? <em> Maura was stretching, but she looked over to where Jane was gazing thoughtfully at the young couple chatting at the park bench next to theirs.

"Immediate attraction is pure narcissism," she decreed, wistfully. _Huh._

"Oh, I don't agree," Jane wheedled, wanting another answer. Maura tilted her head.

"It takes quite a lot of effort to attract a mate," she looked drily amused. Jane resisted the urge to snort. Like Maura had ever had to try hard to attract anyone. Right now for example, all she had to do was turn up, in her tiny shorts and eye-catching blue tank-top, stretch her body into virtually any position and Jane was being attracted all over the goddamn place.

"That, right there, is the beginning of true love," she wasn't quite sure why it felt so important to argue for the young couple but there it was. The slim brunette woman's face was so open and excited as she perused the hottie in front of her. Jane just wanted to believe these moments could work out, was all.

"People are attracted to people who are attracted to them," Maura informed her firmly. Jane's ears pricked up. _Really? That is a theory I'd like to hear more about. _A fit young man jogged up and kissed the hunky object of the brunette's attention on the mouth and the whole scenario crumbled before their eyes, leaving Maura laughing in shock, and quickly dissolving Jane's belief that the doctor knew anything at all about love, despite her apparently feigned, learned tone.

Their phones rang simultaneously, alerting them to the discovery of another body. Jane was secretly relieved. This was the third day in a row Maura had dragged her out for a run. Jane had still not admitted to anyone that she'd agreed to train for a goddamn marathon after Maura had begged her to run it with her, for charity. _Begged, argued, rationalised, flirted and pouted. _That she'd relented at all seemed to Jane to symbolise something much larger about their relationship as a whole. _Maura flutters her eyelashes and I do whatever she wants me to do. _Jane did not want anyone else to notice that fact at all. It was humiliating enough just knowing the truth of it herself.

* * *

><p>To Jane's instant concern, Maura was able to identify the body on first sight. Adam Fairfield, local billionaire, found floating in the harbour. Jane crouched down beside the doctor, gently weighing her hand on her shoulder, searching her face.<p>

"I was involved with his brother, Garrett," Maura told her softly. Jane felt her stomach lurch.

"Of _the_ Fairfields?" Jane felt sick. Maura only nodded. "Was it serious?" Jane knew it wasn't the moment to quiz the chief medical examiner about her love life, but the question felt important. Maura shook her head.

"I was twenty," she explained. "Everything felt serious." Jane's hand moved to Maura's upper thigh. Her protective squeeze drifted slightly further upward than was strictly appropriate without her even being aware of it, gently stroking the tense muscles there, wanting to take Maura aside and get the full goddamn story before she took her anywhere near any billionaire ex-flame of hers, but there was no time. Frost drove with them to speak to the family and Jane's eyes kept flickering over the quiet woman in the car next to her. _Maura Fairfield_ - her brain kept testing it out. As the car swung into the long curved driveway bringing a stupidly giant house into view, Jane imagined walking in to meet Maura there. _Mrs. Maura Fairfield, lady of the manor. _It wasn't so hard to imagine.

"Holy crap," the words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them. They stepped out of the car and Maura pointed out mildly that all the other Fairfield estates and castles where she'd canoodled with her super-rich boyfriend had been far nicer.

"You could have been a Fairfield," Jane wanted to discuss this further. "How did we not know this?"

"Could you stop saying that?" Maura hissed and Jane blanched. She'd thought she'd kept those thoughts inside, instead of rambling on about _Maura Fairfield_ aloud on loop. Frost promptly lost his shit over the gaudy, orange, penis of a car parked outside.

"Garrett's here," Maura sounded far too fond for Jane's liking. "He always liked the finer things in life."

"Yeah, he liked you," Jane muttered, feeling only marginally better when Maura flashed her a pleased smile, her eyes soft as she looked at her friend. The feeling disappeared however when they got inside, Jane and Frost both rigid with discomfort. The Fairfields had always owned people exactly like Jane and Frost's ancestors - in Frost's case, literally - but Maura seemed to think it was bad taste to mention this. She seemed blissfully at ease. Jane watched her move through the elegant rooms, blending in with the other beautifully dressed rich people inside.

She'd always known Maura had come from money, but aside from the fact that it allowed her friend to dress like a runway model on a daily basis, Jane had almost forgotten about the difference in their social positions, at least until it was shoved in her face like this. It had happened during another case recently as well, when Maura had giggled about wearing foil bikinis for sorority parties at the exclusive university she'd attended and which had been their crime scene. The same university had nurtured Maura's extensive knowledge, while Jane - despite having been accepted - had been unable to afford the tuition fees, a fact that had not only cheated her out of libraries full of knowledge, but the possibility of seeing a young Maura Isles drinking wine coolers in a foil bikini, apparently. _And potentially having successfully distracted her from meeting a shit like Garrett Fairfield in the first place, _Jane tried to banish the thought_. Experimenting…it's what all college girls do, right?_

"Maura," a handsome, sensitive looking fop across the room looked stricken as his eyes fell on the beautiful woman beside her. Jane watched as Maura moved gracefully towards him.

"Garrett." He wrapped his arms around her, claiming her back into the fold as a family employee attempted to usher Frost and Jane out through the servant's exit, as if Homicide Detectives were synonymous with Pesky Local Peasants or Travelling Salesmen. Jane dodged his clutches and returned to Maura's side, thankful she had at least one member of the wealthy local gentry on her side. The family's lawyer chased after her, as if to protect Garrett and Maura from her intrusion and when Maura looked up, her beautiful hazel eyes surveyed Jane in surprise, as if unsure who she was or where she'd come from. Jane found herself looking back as if from the other side of a glass wall, suddenly wondering the same thing about her hitherto best friend. She'd gotten so used to Maura wearing scrubs and traipsing around the seamier side of Boston at her side, that the woman in front of her now seemed like a total stranger. Jane looked at her closely, as if for the first time. Every item of clothing on Maura's perfectly groomed frame quite clearly reeked of cash and her body was gently aligned to protect her billionaire paramour from Jane's harassment.

"I'm sure the family will be more than happy to answer all of your questions as soon as they're ready," her well-bred voice was smooth as she seamlessly toed the Fairfield party line. "I don't even have a cause of death. We should just give them their space." For a moment Jane considered throwing up on her friend's shoes. Then she turned on her heel and left Maura alone with Garrett instead.

* * *

><p>When the inevitable argument happened, it was explosive. Jane attacked and Maura defended and once again Jane was reminded of a side of Maura she hardly ever saw. Despite her delicate figure and imploring eyes, Maura Isles could be as sharp and hard as steel. Jane spat sarcasm and insults with all of her venom and Maura - unlike most of her opponents - turned to flint instead of jelly. She clearly wasn't afraid to fight dirty either. She simply turned it all back on her; if Jane could argue her working class superiority then Maura would simply throw back her personal connection to the governor and her loyalty to the Boston Brahmins and all their apparent contributions to culture, before calling Jane out on her bullshit directly.<p>

"Okay so what are we arguing about here?" she asked pointedly. "History? Or are you just mad at me for who my friends are?" Jane seethed.

"This is about work, okay?" she spluttered. "I-I've just never seen you hugging suspects before!" her stomach churned at the memory. Maura bristled, pointing out that the death of her ex - and clearly, possibly future - lover's brother may have only been an accident.

"Are you _hoping_ it was a murder?" she demanded, taking offense. _Yes! _Jane thought. _You're goddamn right I am. Garrett Fairfield is a slimy bastard and I want just one fucking reason to shoot him other than the fact that he clearly still wants to undress you with his teeth. _

"I'm doing my job, like I always do," she snapped instead. "Why don't you do yours?" For the first time in their entire friendship, Maura pulled rank.

"I am," her voice came out like cut glass. "And as the medical examiner it is my job to determine the cause and the manner of death. So I'll tell you whether there's a case here or not." Maura's glare felt like a punch in the jaw.

Jane stormed out enraged, shoving past a uniform who'd gotten in her way and marching herself into the empty women's bathroom, to try and calm down before she actually punched someone. Good_ god, _she wanted to punch someone. Leaning on the sink she gazed up at her reflection. She was seething so hard that her chest was heaving, her jaw clenched and her eyes black with anger. For a moment she crumpled, dropping her head with a groan. _How does she do this to me? I shouldn't care. This is the natural order of things is it not? Me, Frost, Korsak and all the others like us…out on the streets, doing the hard yards and fighting crime. Maura doesn't belong here with us. She should be off sipping champagne on a yacht, discussing art and polo games, not battling it out with murderers and detectives._

Jane locked the door and slumped down with her back against it. Now that the thought had struck her, it wouldn't leave her brain. She could see Maura so clearly in her mind, reclining on the deck of a yacht, the breeze off the water gently moving her hair, her slim legs and perfectly manicured toes bare in the sunshine, her throat tilting back as she laughed. _Happy, relaxed and safe from harm's way. _Wasn't that where Maura should be? Wouldn't that be a good thing, after all? And if so, then wouldn't Jane be able continue on with her life, just like before? Fighting crime and catching bad guys, without her nerves constantly fraying and having heated arguments in the morgue about class anxiety while her heart pounded in fear at the thought of losing the beautiful medical examiner back to her real place in the world?

Jane's fists clenched at her side. _That would be the right thing to do. Maura should be encouraged, really, to jump right back into Garrett Fairfield's arms. The Fairfields would never settle for a daughter-in-law with an odd, creepy hobby like autopsying murder victims, of course. They'd marry her off to Garrett and she'd make a fine return to form as a rich, idle socialite and I would be relegated to an interesting detail that rounded out her perfect life. That wonderfully dirty working-class fuck she'd had that night - with a woman no less - one from the other side of the tracks. The one she'd scored with no more than a snap of her elegant fingers. The one who she'd provided with a tool and instructed to fuck her and who had so perfectly obeyed, servicing her needs as per request. _Jane let her head fall back as she glared up at the ceiling. _I'm a fucking fool, _she raged at herself. _This isn't who I am! I don't fall over myself to do anything for some rich, entitled princess - what a goddamn joke._

It was time, she decided, as she got to her feet, that Maura found out for herself what it was like to be put to use.

* * *

><p>It was very simple. Maura had a direct line into the heart of the reclusive family that Jane needed to question and if the detectives were going to be fobbed off by lawyers, then Maura would have to be the one who asked the difficult questions. Of Garrett himself, if need be.<p>

Of course, Maura Isles - accustomed as she was to privilege and having her needs met, and to being beautiful and fawned over - was adamantly _not_ accustomed to being told what to do. Even by her alleged best friend, and even when the request was put to her with what was supposed to a mildly ironic sweetening gift of chocolate, filled with twenty-four carat gold flakes. Instead she'd bristled about being made fun of, demanded an unnecessary apology and sparked yet another argument that left Korsak scurrying from the room.

"You looked _really_ at home in that world," Jane's despair made her shoulders slump. Maura's eyes made her want to weep.

"It's where I'm from," she said quietly. "It's not where I chose to stay." _Yeah, for now. _When faced with the choice - Jane Rizzoli or Garrett Fairfield - it had taken Maura all of two seconds to side with the social strata in which she belonged. Jane had watched it happen after all.

"Well what are you doing down here, slumming with us?" she demanded sharply. _Might as well call a spade a spade and put things back in their natural order then shall we?_ Maura looked as if she'd been slapped.

"The same as you!" she cried. "I'm catching bad guys!"

"I need the job," Jane pointed out. "You don't." Maura looked at her like she was from another planet.

"I want my life to have meaning and purpose, the same as you." Jane decided to leave before one of them turned on the waterworks. She was afraid it would be her.

"_Sounds_ good, Maura," she turned back to look at her before she walked away. "I don't know what to believe anymore. I don't even know whose side you're on."

* * *

><p>Jane took matters into her own hands. It wasn't that difficult, even if it required parking down the street and sneaking through the bushes instead of marching up the main drive, but she'd made it half way through the estate without being stopped before she heard splashing and marched over to discover the man doing laps in the pool.<p>

"Garrett Fairfield," she greeted him. He stopped swimming and tread water, pulling off his goggles and looking up at her sharply.

"Detective…" he returned. "I'm sorry, I believe I've forgotten your name," his tone was mild.

"Rizzoli," she informed him flatly. He didn't budge.

"Well, Detective Rizzoli, you've heard all we have to say about the matter. All enquiries go through our lawyer." Jane bared her teeth in an approximation of a smile as she looked down at him.

"Actually," she informed him. "That's not how this kind of thing goes, you see-"

"I'm calling security," he swam towards the edge of the pool. Jane laughed.

"How very…spineless of you Garrett," she raised her eyebrows. "Unable to defend yourself from the questions of one lone woman without a security team for back up? No wonder Maura is so impressed with you." He leaned his arms on the edge of the pool, narrowing his eyes.

"It's Jane, isn't it?" he appeared to remember her name after all. "Maura told me all about you," he told her coolly. "She sure likes you a _lot_, doesn't she?" his tone shifted, becoming snide.

"Tastes change," she shrugged, eyeing the blonde buff man in the water below her. Really, the two of them could not be more different. Garrett appeared to read her mind.

"She's always been rather eclectic in her tastes," he eyed her right back. "But that's Maura for you. She's a little…_eccentric,_" he smiled, his eyes cold. "And trusting. Easily led. Fragile." Jane snorted.

"I don't think you know her quite as well as you think you do, Mr. Fairfield," this time her smile was real.

"And you think you do, don't you Detective?" He had her there. "Look _Jane_, the thing you don't understand about people like me and Maura, is that we have each other's backs. I've spoken to the governor - to the mayor, to the chief of police - and well, Maura...she understands as well. Adam's death was a terrible, tragic accident. I'm afraid you'll find that there's no point in sneaking in to investigate me. No one will find a thing." He shrugged at her.

Jane opened her mouth to pursue the new line of investigation that had just started to become clear to her, when a speaker crackled at the pool side.

"Mr. Fairfield sir, Dr. Maura Isles has arrived to see you. Shall I send her down?" _Shit. _Garrett raised an eyebrow at her, before reaching over to the intercom.

"Yes please, Emmett, that would be delightful." Garrett began to adjust his goggles. "Staying around for a chat, Detective? Because I'll be honest," he shrugged again. "I'm kind of hoping to rekindle an old flame, you know how it is.

"Good luck with that, Garrett," she gave him a hateful smile before turning on her heels and marching off down the lawn, taking a quick left into the trees at the driveway and escaping just in time.

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><p>Jane sat at her desk, eyeing the phone for the five hundredth time since she'd got back to the office. She didn't want to have doubts. Garrett Fairfield was hiding something, she was sure of it, but his idea of Maura had jarred her. Meek little Maura, happy to fudge the science to prove whatever was most socially preferable? Jane had accused her of as much herself, but hearing it parroted from Garrett's mouth had only made her realise how laughable it was. Nothing could be further from who Maura was. One ex-flame might not know that about her, but the other sure did. She grabbed the phone on first ring.<p>

"Jane," came Maura's voice down the line. Jane wanted to hug her.

"Maura. I'm sorry-" she sighed.

"No, it's okay, listen, I don't have a lot of time," Maura had her covert operations voice on. _She's still with Garrett then._ "Adam had a mistress. Vanessa Dewold," Maura pronounced carefully as Jane wrote it down.

"Why- why are you doing this?" Jane wanted to know. There was a pause. She could hear Maura breathing.

"Because I have your back," she said softly. "I gotta go." There was a click, and Jane smiled. _You are something else, Maura Isles._

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><p>The evidence, as their unfailingly thorough chief medical examiner declared to them, was that Adam Fairfield had indeed been murdered. Back in the morgue Jane found herself struggling not to bellow out loud, <em>your ex did it! Your stupid, condescending prick of an ex, Maura, please tell me you didn't let him touch you!<em> But she also knew she needed to apologise first before grilling her. Maura had shown quite clearly where her loyalties lay - and it was with her job, pure and simple. There was no point in turning it into a fucking duel. Jane frowned. _Garrett Fairfield versus Jane Rizzoli, pistols drawn at twenty paces, for the love of the maiden Maura._

"Want to get a drink?" she drawled instead. Maura looked at her coyly.

"Will it have gold flecks in it?" she shot back, her voice prim. Jane smirked.

"No." Maura accepted anyway.

In the pub she caved right away and quizzed Maura over Garrett. She couldn't help it. She regretted it immediately however.

"I loved that guy," Maura admitted. "You know when you're so in love you feel like you took some kind of a substance?" They gazed at each other. _I'm going to go right ahead and pretend I have no idea what you're talking about,_ Jane decided. But then Maura asked her out on a date. A date to investigate the Fairfields and Jane just about crumbled then and there.

_I'm not a Fairfield. I'm a Rizzoli. Maura and I…we shouldn't mix, but we do. And we do it well. _Here was Maura, giving Jane everything she wanted - access to her connections despite the social cost to Maura herself, as well as the full gift of her loyalty. There was no need to duel; Maura's choice was made. She then proceeded to go on and bring that fact home to Jane over and over again.

First she took her shopping for a goddamn cocktail dress, wedging herself into the dressing room along with Jane and running her eyes - and occasionally her hands - over Jane's body in dress after dress until they found one they both agreed on. Then she allowed the detective to escort her into the formal function, remaining glued at her side. Jane felt almost unbearably smug as Maura gazed at her with open admiration and adoration, even as Garrett smarmed up to her side, his impeccable manners and role of host earning him nothing more than Dr. Isle's own politeness in return. Jane couldn't help taunting him, hamming it up and behaving deliberately like a cluelessly uncouth neanderthal, watching his eyes narrow in distaste from across the table as Maura only leaned in, giggling or rolling her eyes like an indulgent spouse.

It ended, as Jane had both hoped and feared it would. Garrett Fairfield was proven to be his brother's murderer, and it was Maura's exacting science that hung him out to dry. She hated seeing Maura doubt herself, keeping her close as she watched her friend berate herself for having become close to a man capable of murdering his family members. She loved however, having Maura at her side as she arrested Garrett, letting the obnoxious shit watch as they worked seamlessly together, weaving the trap that brought him in. It was on the tip of her tongue to say it out loud, but she managed to hold it in, though the smile slipped out all the same. _Mine, _was the whole thought in its entirety. _Mine, and definitely not yours. _

The thought reared itself on loop, nagging and persisting, as she nervously tried to tease Maura out of her funk, bringing her beer in a champagne glass, a perfect compromise of Rizzoli taste and Isles style. Maura screwed up her nose at her.

"I don't really drink beer."

"That's cos you've never had _my_ beer," Jane explained.

"Okay…can we at least drink it your way?" Maura complained.

"Yes," Jane mumbled, "Let's get this right." She ordered two bottles, as directed. Maura eyed her as the drinks arrived, her eyes warm, gazing into Jane's.

"Remember when you asked me why I was slumming?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," she apologised. Maura gazed at her a beat longer.

"Well now you know."

Jane blushed. _Mine. So mine._


	16. AUTHOR NOTETHIS IS NOT A CHAPTER!

**YOU GUYS. OMFGZ. I am so sorry. I hate when I get into a story and the author just drops out and then never even calls. SO RUDE.**

Here's what's going on. Work/Work/Life/Bad Life Stuff/Good Life Stuff/Busy/Busy. SORRY.

But also...y'know...this story, right? I started off loving writing it, but the thing is...I don't normally write so strictly to canon. I like AU, I like having some freedom to play around creating stuff out of left field and yet I set out to write this story to fit in with exactly what we see on screen, and it's been really hilarious fun for me to start with but now I just...[FEELINGS]...feel like usually I can write in colour and now I'm just writing in black and white. I AM IN A CAGE YOU GUYS. I BUILT THE BARS MYSELF/SO SYMBOLIC ETC.

What I'm saying is that I think it's getting boring, and if I feel that way then it won't be long before I bore you too.

This isn't a cry for 'please say nice things about my story and bolster my ego/review whoring' it's just a fact. Basically I feel a bit uninspired at the moment, cos I like to write things I think have a real heart/bring the funny/have some beauty to them. And this feels a little lacking.

I WANT TO FINISH THIS STORY YOU GUYS I REALLY DO. It might mean it takes a different shape to the arc I had set out in my brain, OR it might mean I give it a rest and probs like, come back to it after the real season finale when we have ENDLESS MONTHS OF WITHDRAWAL to get through.

Besides, I initially wanted to end this story before the show returned and I'm clearly way behind schedule now. And now there's promos out and JANE AND MAURA ARE BOXING TOGETHER! I CAN'T EVEN WITH THIS! Please reread Chapter One and rewatch the promo and think about what is obviously going through their heads right now as per my perverted brain. (Brain splodes/SMILES FOREVER)

(P.S In the meantime I've been sent some one-shot story prompts - feel free to PM me some of your own and they might be more manageable at this stage of the game.)

**[HERE IS SOME MORE LOVE FOR YOU/PLEASE DON'T HATE ME/HERE, TAKE ALL MY FUDGE CLUSTERS, THEY ARE ALL FOR YOU - EVERYTHING FOR YOU]**


	17. LATER THAT SAME DAY NOT A CHAPTER

**Oh HI again, this is not a chapter, okay?**

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><p><strong>Alright ficsters…<strong>

Thank you thank you thank you for all your reviews and messages. I've been totally overwhelmed by your taking the time out to offer genuinely thought out constructive criticism, suggestions, ideas, and all-round intensely lovely sweetness. And I appreciate your all being cool about the time out. I really do hate it when you're invested in a story and it just stops, that just sucks. My apologies are sincere and I thank you for your patience.

I had decided I was definitely done with this story after all, because I really badly wanted to keep it intertwined with the episodes; that was the fun and the challenge of it. I wanted to colour in the bits that show the very obvious falling in love we can all see onscreen, but which the creators are adamantly never going to admit to. So, _f__uck 'em_, was the real point of my fic. _Fuck_ the very boring, gutless homophobia and baseless fear that causes a very obvious love story to remain coded and hidden away and denied like it's the mothertruckin' 1950's. Rizzoli and Isles is nothing more than a perfectly conventional, opposites attract, co-workers with heat, friends who want more, _love story_. The only thing different about it is that they're both (really hot) ladies. So we can't _have_ that, you guys. You and me - the flaming 'mos and the straight people with eyes - we're not allowed to have this story because it disrupts the status quo. Dear god, ladies in love with other ladies? The world will rupture! It will end the universe! Won't somebody think of the _children_? You see?

So part of me desperately wants to continue to provide the explicit love story behind the veiled (and then denied) references that we are continually presented on screen. Because FUCK THEM, do you hear me? FUCK THEM for pretending the story doesn't exist, that we, by extension, don't exist. That when we fall in love it is somehow less real, less acceptable, more of a punchline. FUCK THEM for that, okay?

And yet at the same time…guys, I just kind of hate Rizzoli and Isles now. It makes me so exhaustedly, eye-rollingly annoyed about what has been done to a show that had so much potential to be so much better. I didn't even bother to watch the last couple of episodes because they were so clearly a complete shambles and such an obvious pile of horseshit. And I'm just so…uninterested in that. At the very least, I want stories that make some kind of logical sense. I probably will read other people's recaps of the third series and tune in for the sexy highlights on youtube, but I won't bother to watch the episodes. I don't see the point in doing that to myself. They're cheap and cynical and we could go around for years trying to see some over-arching character development and some consistency amongst the lazy writing, fine comb the whole thing to find some meaning in all of the circuitous and ultimately empty storylines. But I promise you, it's not there. And as such, I'm just no longer invested.

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><p>Fanfiction is a tricky business. Like I ranted earlier, I like AU. It's goddamn wonderful silly serious fun. But this story wasn't supposed to be that. So really, I was just stuck, and therefore, totally done with it all.<p>

But all of you guys, with your smart cheeky fan goggles on, with your hilarious commentary, your attention to detail, your passionate arguments, carefully constructed fics and stunningly edited fanvids and manips…you deserve a better story than what Tamaro et al have delivered like a pile of puke on your shoes. You deserve stories like Snuff's and Crackinois' and harper_m's and Nefertirioc 's and Brookbian's and if I can fill in one part of the void by not treating you like you're some kind of invisible, less deserving, less human, pile of idiots then I will try to do my bit. Because you're the real goddamn fans here, the ones they should be listening to instead of ignoring, and you deserve stories that AREN'T SHIT. Don't put up with shit you guys! Make your own goddamn stories; for the love of god, do not let the likes of Janet Tamaro dictate what you are or aren't allowed to have.

I'm warning you now, I'm going to be feeling my own way through the end of this thing. It'll be necessarily AU because the show's storyline now just sucks that much, but I'm going to keep the canon related along the way as far as works for me, because the romance and the heat and the chemistry and the longing looks and the not being remotely matched by any other character, YOU ARE NOT IMAGINING THAT. IT'S THERE. YOU NEED NO MAGICAL GAY GOGGLES TO SEE IT. So please join me now as we all say together: _fuck. them._ Okay? Fuck them through better stories and better ideas and better understanding and refusing to shut up and be invisible consumers of crap that doesn't care about you.

It's not going to be fast and furious like before. I have a job and a shit ton of life stuff going on (I fell in love! With a hot, long-haired, dark-eyed brunette with sexy forearms and killer abs! Do I have a type you guys? APPARENTLY SO). But down here in the Southern Hemisphere, Winter is coming. And I'll wrap myself up in blankets and speed type my little heart out for you guys as often as I can manage, until this thing is finished. Alright chickens?

Now let's get started.

Love, goldflecks

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><p><strong>Special acknowledgements to lilacspree (that review was SO helpful and I really appreciate it and please PM me?) and to the lurkers who delurked to say hi and to clomle44 for being my favourite human being in all of fandom.<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**Oh, HEY! I didn't see you there. It's, like, been ages huh? Jeez. You look good. _Really_ good, actually. I like what you've done to your hair. **

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><p>To the untrained eye it would appear that what Dr. Maura Isles was doing right now, was in fact flirting shamelessly with one Jane Rizzoli, in a romantic restaurant, late at night, to the complete oblivion of both their dates. However, if you were in the know - as only Maura herself was - then it would be quite clear that what she was involved in was nothing more than pure, rigorous, scientific analysis.<p>

Maura had always made her strong abhorrence for guesswork quite clear; she was not the type to _assume, _she did not _have_ _hunches _and she definitely did not listen to the opinions of her intestinal tract as her best friend was wont to do. Despite this, certain events of the past year and a half had accumulated until their significance could no longer easily be denied. As a result Maura had quite unintentionally formed a certain hypothesis, which had lodged itself firmly at the forefront of her mind and nagged at her with its maddening ambiguity until there was no other way through it, except to prove or disprove it. She absolutely could not move any further until she had absolute proof. There was too much at stake and leaping without looking just wasn't how she was built.

It was going to be a delicate operation but during her morning yoga class the tools she required to set up the test had all of a sudden neatly presented themselves. It was actually quite thrilling, Maura thought, how the pieces had so perfectly fallen into place. Now all she had to do was to get Jane to agree.

For the purposes of the study however, Jane would have to be kept in the dark. It was regrettable perhaps - and would never have passed by an ethics committee - but if the experiment were to have any real validity then that was just the way it would have to be. Jane was the experiment's subject after all.

After twenty-three-and-a-half months of exposure to Detective Jane Rizzoli, Maura could define exactly five clear facts about her best friend's love life:

1/ At the time of their first meeting, Jane had willingly and energetically engaged in explicit sexual relations with another woman (Maura Isles) and had exhibited all of the physiological signs of intense arousal, which had resulted in what had appeared to a suitably qualified medical practitioner (Maura Isles) to be more than one highly satisfactory orgasm.

2/ From this point on, Jane consistently claimed to be almost exclusively heterosexual in orientation, a fact that she appeared vehemently attached to.

3/ During the entire course of their friendship Jane had shown what could generously be described as mild signs of physical attraction to only two males that Maura was aware of. Despite this attraction, neither relationship had progressed even to the point of lip-to-lip contact, let alone intercourse.

4/ Jane continued to show subtle signs of physical attraction in the proximity of at least one woman (Maura Isles) even though she'd given strong indication that she did not ever want to progress past friendship with the woman in question.

5/ Jane resisted powerfully each time anyone tried to set her up with a single, available male as well as rejecting spontaneous offers of male attention, if that attention was likely to be romantic in nature.

With the evidence stacking up strongly, Maura could only hypothesise that Jane Rizzoli was far closer to the exclusively homosexual end of the Kinsey scale than she was to the heterosexual end. Maura guessed that Jane was really positioned somewhere around the four or even five mark out of a possible six, despite how she tried to pass herself off as a one, at most. Maura had always been inclined to place her own self at around the two mark, although recently with the way her thoughts had been going, she was wondering if a three might not be more accurate. After all, sexual responsiveness and orientation could vary throughout one's lifetime and Jane had a certain magnetism about her that felt almost overpowering at times. But no, Maura shook her head firmly, trying to clear it. This experiment was about_ Jane_. It was best not to let things get muddied.

Unfortunately however, Maura did not know of any other available women to whom Jane appeared to experience attraction, so she herself would just have to do, in order to give the experiment the best chance of succeeding. When Jorge grinned his handsome grin at Jane in yoga class and Jane appeared mildly intrigued - especially when Maura blurred the lines of truth as best she was able and implied the man might also be a doctor - the parameters of the experiment were set. Jane continued to prove fact five by refusing to involve herself in anything resembling a date with Jorge, but Maura quickly exploited fact four and flirted, teased and bossed Jane into agreeing.

It was difficult of course, because as always Jane flirted back, going as far as fluttering her eyelashes to fluster the doctor, thus confusing Maura's current goals until she found herself being forced to breach her own rules and employ scientifically unproven guesswork to establish a potential cause of death for their morning's homicide victim before Jane would relent and agree to Maura's plan. It was momentarily distressing, but Maura was quite sure it would all be worth it.

* * *

><p>Jane had finally agreed to the double date with Jorge, along with Maura and the attractive, charmingly accented yoga instructor Brock, whom Maura had already taken for a test run. Dr. Isles was thrilled by her exclusive opportunity to observe up close Jane's dating behaviour around men, although her view of her friend glowing and laughing and telling inappropriate jokes kept getting obscured by Brock's head as he repeatedly placed himself in her line of view. Maura smiled politely and placed her hand on his arm, gently shifting him to the left and letting her gaze return to her best friend who was on fine form, on her third glass of wine and holding the whole table's attention. She was showing off, Maura realised. <em>She must like him. <em>

Jorge was a good looking man. He and Jane complemented each other perfectly with their dark eyes and olive skin. _They would have beautiful babies together,_ Maura thought wistfully. He gazed at Jane, obviously smitten and Jane looked sideways at him with a smirk before her eyes flickered back to Maura. She felt Jane's eyes blazing into her as Brock kissed Maura's neck in an attempt to pull her attention back to his biological needs. Brock was perfectly sufficient in that department - he was a yoga instructor after all - but Maura couldn't help feeling mildly put out by his constant need for reaffirmation while she was hard at work. Her eyes grazed back over Jane again. She watched as Jorge smiled at the detective, clearly hoping the two of them would follow the sexually charged example across the table from them. Maura blanched as Jane literally _shrugged_ at the man in response and immediately tried to end the date. Was Jane really uninterested or was she just following her usual self-sabotaging routine? It was clearly time to move on from the purely observational stage of the experiment.

"Jane?" she snagged the detective's attention back to herself, letting her coy head tilt and meaningful eye contact speak volumes, before making her way over and bringing her body in close to Jane's. She swayed in close to murmur a soft command in her friend's ear, dragging her away from the table with the pretence of an all-girls' gossip session in the ladies' room. She must have been slightly too successful in her flirty manipulation of the detective since Jane followed on her heels so closely behind her that Maura all but collided with her when she turned around.

Phase two of the experiment involved a dual pronged attack: flirt with Jane to entice information from her about how she was feeling about Jorge, while simultaneously measuring Jane's levels of arousal as induced by a woman, compared to that which she'd displayed in reaction to an attractive, available, thoroughly interested man.

Maura began her interrogation immediately. The signs for Jorge, it appeared were not looking good. When she asked Jane what she thought of her date, the detective had to peer back around at the table, as if she'd already forgotten what he looked like. She proclaimed - _he's sexy -_ with confidence, but she was gazing at Maura's breasts even as the words left her mouth. When Maura pushed her to act, pointing out that if she indeed felt that way then maybe she could actually sleep with him, Jane appeared shocked, denying that liking his physical appearance equated to any urge to have sex with him. _Oh, Jane… _Maura could think of at least one example of the detective immediately sleeping with someone on the simple basis of instant physical attraction, so what exactly was the difference here? Maura suspected she knew, but she wanted to be sure.

She let their bodies drift closer, her whole body swaying slightly as she tilted her head and gazed up at Jane in challenge, a teasing smile off-setting her intense eye contact.

"Right, but did you know that sex releases immunoglobulin A?" she asked sweetly. "Wards off colds," she continued, flashing her a blinding smile, knowing full well that despite her regularly aggrieved protests, Jane secretly loved it when the doctor talked science.

She'd never quite pushed this hard for Jane to show her sexual side, not since the beginning of their carefully negotiated friendship. As she examined Jane's face curiously to see how she would react, Maura found herself having to consciously remember to breathe. Jane gazed openly at Maura's lips and then down at her breasts as she considered the benefits of sex, then a small smile twitched at her mouth and she regarded her friend with a look of utterly unveiled desire. Then she snapped back to attention and neatly declined, pretending she hadn't shaved her legs prior to the date, which Maura knew perfectly well from the long once-over she'd given Jane when she'd turned up looking positively edible - _focus, Maura! -_ in a dress and heels, was a blatant lie.

"Oh…nice try," she raised her eyebrows at her friend, producing her emergency date kit from her handbag, shaving razor included. Jane's eyes widened in alarm.

"What kind of a person _are_ you?" she demanded. Maura smiled, not moving away.

"You know what kind," she replied coyly and Jane narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to protest further. Maura caught sight of Brock starting towards them and immediately grabbed her friend's arm, tugging her quickly into the bathroom after all. On finding the ladies' room full of other women checking their reflections and comparing dates, Maura towed Jane into a cubicle with her, breezily ignoring both the stares of the other women and the undignified squeak of the detective in her clutches.

"Maura!" Jane hissed, her eyes wide as Maura turned around in the small space to face the detective whose back was firmly up against the door. She moved closer, ignoring the look of mild panic on Jane's face.

"When was the last time you had sex?" she asked directly. Jane jerked her head irritably.

"_What?_ That's none of your business! God, Maura-" she struggled to keep her voice low. Maura fixed her with a look.

"You didn't sleep with Dean," she listed. "Then you refused to even consider Joe Grant, both of whom were single available men who wanted to be with you and now you don't want to sleep with Jorge either?"

"I barely knew Dean!" Jane cut her off. "Joey was leaving town and I've only just met Jorge!" she protested. "I'm not like you, Maura. I don't just jump into bed with people I barely even know." Maura ignored the dig. Jane always defended by attacking and she wasn't going to be put off track now.

"Except for me," she met Jane's eyes, holding her focus. She moved until there were barely inches between them. "You didn't know me either, but it didn't stop you from taking me to bed right away, did it?" Jane's breathing sped up and she focussed on a spot somewhere over Maura's right shoulder.

"What's your point, Maura?" she huffed. Maura struggled to concentrate on the science at hand, watching Jane as she flushed and fidgeted, her breathing shallow and her eyes dark. They were so close Maura could smell Jane's warm spicy scent and pick up the light glow of perspiration on her skin as she squirmed under Maura's close scrutiny. It was getting harder and harder to focus. _Flirt and observe the effects. Right. _Maura's hand reached for Jane's hip. They touched each other all the time these days, just not quite like this.

"My point," she said softly, "is that you pretend like you're not this sexual being, but I know that you are," Jane twitched under her touch. "I know that you like to _fuck, _Jane," she ignored the hitch in her tone, absently noting that her own respiration rate now more than matched Jane's. "I know that you…excel at it, in fact," she swallowed, her gaze dropping momentarily to Jane's mouth before jerking back to her eyes. "I don't know why you keep denying that part of yourself, but it's not…healthy," her tone evened as she found her way back to safer ground. "Studies show that the repression of sexual desire is linked with higher levels of depression, anxiety, irritability and even ischaemic heart disease."

Jane lifted her chin, looking hard into her eyes and Maura gazed back transfixed as the tension sparked between them.

"Fine," Jane said quietly. "Since you insist, I'll go home with Jorge. For the good of my health. I wouldn't want to…spontaneously combust or anything," she said sarcastically. She twisted around, pausing for a second as their bodies pressed together in the small space, before taking a deep breath, wrenching the door open and shoving Maura neatly away from her.

It didn't feel like science anymore, as she watched Jane leave with Jorge. It didn't feel at all like an experiment in the slightest, as she leaned up and softly dropped what she hoped appeared to be an apologetic, best-friends kiss goodbye on Jane's cheek, rather than a silent plea to reconsider. It definitely didn't feel like science when she asked Brock to drop her home and sat up half the night trying not to think about Jane in bed with Jorge, hugging her knees to herself and gazing out at the dark street below her window, pushing away a ridiculous urge to cry.

The next morning however, when she bumped into the detective on her way into work and noted that Jane looked far from happily post-coital and more like her usual irritable self, demanding "_Really?" _at her with an accusing finger jabbed in her direction, launching into a tirade about how Jorge was not in any way her type and therefore would not be spending a single second whatsoever in her bed - Maura suddenly found herself wanting to prematurely call the experiment a resounding success.

What she wasn't expecting was the sudden flash of anger that caught up with her at precisely the second that Jane decided to blaze on with her oblivious act as to why she really didn't want Jorge, or Dean or Joe. _What would be so wrong, Jane, with admitting you're a lesbian for god's sake? _Maura badly wanted to grab her friend and shake her, or maybe just lean in and kiss the denial from her, right there in the street in front of everyone, if that's what it would take to make things clear. She felt the shape of the experiment slip away from her as she decided to aim higher, to seek out even more precise, unarguably solid evidence, that even a bull-headed homicide detective would not be able to deny. It was time for phase three.


	19. Chapter 19

In what seemed - even to the ever logical Maura - like a streak of wonderful luck, the case they were currently working provided an abundance of perfect opportunities to test Jane's responses to all things lesbian. The case of the unfortunately murdered woman outside of a gay night club was a gold mine of opportunities for Maura to get up close to Jane, gaze into her eyes and talk about female sweat and DNA, to discuss relationships between women and equal marriage rights and watch Jane start to squirm. Only she didn't squirm. Maura was puzzled. She'd thought that all things considered, the constant chatter about lesbianism that was suddenly all over their workplace would make Jane incredibly uncomfortable, yet she seemed relatively relaxed about the whole thing. Even when to her surprise Maura found herself in the situation of publicly discussing the one topic she'd never imagined they would ever mention between them again, even in private.

"…No…" she explained, "injuries are consistent with a non-biological phallus shaped object," she waited expectantly for Jane's violent blush but none came. Jane made a point of looking comically sideways at the lab technician beside them before murmuring out the side of her mouth at her.

"You mean a _dildo?"_ she asked, as if to clarify, causing Maura to smirk and act like the term was new to her, finding herself enjoying Jane's own obvious amusement as Maura nervously launched into a quick history of the sex toy, marvelling at Jane's ability to publicly tease her about it, instead of panicking and running. She wasn't sure what to think of the situation.

Equally interesting was Jane's total and absolute rejection of the other variable Maura had introduced. Jorge might have been a slight miscalculation on her behalf; his sensitivity and clinginess was not going down well with the irritated detective, but in every other way he seemed perfect. He was as attentive as Maura could have hoped, constantly setting up little moments of comparison as she and Jane talked lesbian sex while the detective simultaneously rolled her eyes at being showered with romantic gifts from an attractive and interested male.

Maura argued with herself about getting ahead of the experiment. One man versus one woman, was hardly a conclusive sample size. She began to find herself becoming oddly irritated with the detective. Even though it was ancient history between them, if she allowed in the memory of Jane standing in her office that first terrible day at work together, all but claiming Maura had taken advantage of her whilst intoxicated, anything to distance herself from any possibility of being remotely homosexual - well - it stung. And yet if the experiment continued to prove her suspicions correct, then where did it leave Maura? Full of conflicting feelings for a woman who'd simply never be honest or brave enough to want her back?

Suddenly Maura began to wish that Jane would at least show a spark of interest in Jorge, anything to give a glimmer of the possibility that Jane's heterosexuality excuse wasn't merely a fib. For god's sake, when else had anyone made such a concerted effort to draw Jane out? Jane's petulant dismissals of the man's every attempt- _chocolate from Jorge makes me sadder - _began to annoy her. She all but admitted defeat as Jane talked up ways to rid herself of her unwanted suitor.

"I just think if you allow him to see all sides of you, he'll stop calling," she spoke wryly before she could stop herself. _At first you think it's all sex and tender bravery, Nurse Jorge…and then it turns out she's just stubborn, repressed and utterly infuriating. Get out now while you still can. _Maura escaped to the lab with some of Jorge's rejected fudge clusters neatly pocketed for her own consolation.

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><p>"Mind if I join you?" Maura looked up from her seat in the police cafeteria later that afternoon to see Detective Frost clutching his own coffee and laptop, and she smiled, edging her own computer closer to allow him room.<p>

"How's the case coming along?" she asked him, noticing he looked a little nervous and attempting to put him at ease. He eyed her seriously.

"Not great," he admitted. "We're sort of resorting to desperate measures...so, I was wondering if you could help us out with something?"

"Of course," she assured him, taking a sip of her coffee. "Was there a particular part of the forensic evidence you needed clarified?" He scrunched his nose at her.

"Actually, I wanted your help with Rizzoli," he hedged, a slow grin spreading over his features. "What are the chances you think, of convincing her to be a lesbian, you know, for a one night only kind of deal?" Maura clutched for her napkin as her coffee nearly shot out her nose. She choked and spluttered for a full unladylike minute, her face flushed bright red, while Frost eyed her with a combination of concern and faint amusement.

"I just meant, uh, _impersonating_ a lesbian, you know…going undercover for the case?" He paused in confusion as he eyed her distress. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything-"

"It's fine, Frost," she interceded, patting her mouth with her napkin and managing to look him in the eye. "What exactly did you have in mind?" The detective looked back at her evenly, and she could almost see the cogs turning in his mind. Frost had always given her the impression of someone who took in far more than he let on and now it downright unnerved her. She felt like her conflicting feelings for Jane were glowing in neon along with her continued blush.

He cast his eyes down politely and explained the other detectives scheme for setting up a lesbian internet dating profile for Jane. Korsak turned up, and Maura found herself in the unexpected position of uploading photos of Detective Rizzoli from her personal files and crafting Jane's online image as an out, confident lesbian, while the other two detectives advised. Frost and Korsak seemed positively gleeful to set Jane up as a gay speed-dater and Maura wondered anew if she wasn't the only person close to Jane with genuine doubts about Jane's avowed heterosexuality.

"I can't put _butch,_" she protested, "she's my friend!" Maura immediately flashed back on a vivid image of Jane standing over her stark naked, all long toned muscles and expertly wielded strap-on and a look of total dominance on her face.

"I'm putting sporty," she said decisively, quite certain that women were going to be trampling themselves to get at the detective as it was, without letting the entire lesbian population of Boston know even a hint of Jane's true proclivities. Belatedly, Maura wondered if she quite liked Frost and Korsak's plan after all. A sexually frustrated, apparently repressed Jane Rizzoli being sent into a lesbian bar, to flirt her way toward solving a case? The whole thing was a powder keg, and if it was going to cause Jane to explode, then Maura was definitely planning on being there.

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><p>"Come over to my place tonight?" There was a hint of a whine in Jane's voice as she leaned against Maura's desk at the end of the day. "If Jorge rings, I want a genuine excuse as to why I'm too busy to see him."<p>

_Why don't you just tell him your girlfriend's coming over? _Maura rolled her eyes at her friend, almost convinced that Jane was conducting her own private experiment. _Take Jorge home, disaster ensues. Take Maura home instead. _She agreed however, trying not to sound too eager and cautioning herself against relaxing and enjoying this too much. Nothing had changed. _Absolute proof_ she reminded herself. There was no way she'd let Jane's own inclination to experiment draw her in again, since her heart had barely healed from the last time around. She changed from her perfectly fitted work dress into soft loose yoga attire, which for Maura passed as slobby clothes. There were to be no mixed messages tonight.

And yet as soon as they were through the door, Jane poured them both a glass of wine and grinned at her.

"Come to bed with me," she husked with a mock flirtatious tilt to her head. Maura frowned at her, annoyed that Jane was acting as if their relationship were all one big joke. The other woman just laughed, as if they really were two best friends with no hint of a sexual history between them. "I want to talk about _men_," she clarified with a wry grin and Maura just shook her head and followed her into the bedroom. Jane's behaviour was giving her whiplash.

True to her word Jane did want to talk about men, for all of three seconds.

"Jorge is more submissive than my dog," she hummed as she tickled Jo Friday and Maura settled tentatively on the other side of the bed. And that was all the boy talk dispensed with.

"Maybe I should be a lesbian," Jane announced lightly, immediately getting to the point as she settled down beside her, without even removing her shoes. _Fine, I'm playing,_ Maura decided, waiting to see where this would go.

"Well wishes can come true!" she cooed at Jo Friday, avoiding looking at the woman beside her. She took a certain amount of satisfaction in announcing to the detective that she was partially responsible for having set her up on a whole pile of anonymous internet dates with interested lesbians, enjoying Jane's affronted response. She held her breath while Jane glared at Maura's laptop for all of half a minute to view the scores of hopeful women lining up for her attention and dismissed them all in mocking tones. Whether this was proof against Jane's interest in women, or evidence of her interest in only one woman, Maura was unsure.

"I wonder what kind of women we would like, if we _liked women," _she needled her slightly, whilst settling herself luxuriously into Jane's pillow. She arched her spine the slight amount it required to make her curves obvious, glancing over at Jane to see her reaction.

"What?" Jane recoiled, clearly not enjoying having her age-old denials repeated back to her word perfect. "Well," she hedged, "first of all, I would be the guy." Maura looked at her in confusion. Was Jane's weird hang-ups about being gay more about gender identity? Did she really think there'd be no more to lesbian sex than who strapped it on? Her temper flared and instantly they were arguing about stereotypes and who was bossiest. When Maura denied that she herself was ever remotely bossy, a faraway look came over Jane's face.

"Yes you are. You're just…soft and polite when you're bossing people around." She smirked, and Maura noted the rapid increase of the detective's breathing and wondered what exact memory Jane was reliving to back up that claim. She had a sudden flash of being on top, straddling Jane on her couch, her breasts in her face and lips against the other woman's ear suggesting softly and politely exactly what she wanted the detective to do to her. Her own breathing increased. This was dangerous territory they were entering.

"Well it's a good thing you're not my type," she announced, attempting to derail this impending train crash. Jane instantly defended herself and they argued over it until Maura curved her spine again and closed her eyes, pretending to meditate to avoid further discussion. She felt Jane's eyes raking down her body.

"Well just think," the detective growled, "because of you, by this time tomorrow I could be on a date with a killer." Maura glared at her. _Or, you might well be on a series of dates with a selection of attractive women just dying to bed you, and you know it. _Jane opened one eye as if to read her thoughts. "Yaaayyy," she declared sarcastically and Maura closed her eyes again to shut her out.

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><p>When she woke up, the room was dark. She lay stock still for a moment until she realised where she was. In the quiet of the room Maura could distinguish Jo Friday's soft even sleep wheeze from the end of the bed, and Jane's own quiet exhalations beside her. She rolled onto her back, feeling awkward about her presence there. Nothing had happened and yet the fact that she'd stayed seemed like evidence of her own confused boundaries around Jane. She was just contemplating sneaking out quietly when Jane's voice breached the stillness.<p>

"Maura-" her voice was sober.

"Mmm?" she kept her own voice deliberately sleepy, wanting an out to whatever Jane wanted to whisper about under the cover of darkness. There was a shift in the bed and suddenly Jane's hand was resting on her hip. Her breath caught as the hand slid across her abdomen and held her softly, fingers brushing skin where her top had ridden up. Her face flamed instantly in the dark.

"Maura," Jane's voice was tentative, her face close on the same pillow. She felt the soft brush of the detective's breath against her cheek. "What if-"

"I don't like sentences that start with _what if,"_ Maura interrupted sharply, even as her entire body lit up with goosebumps. Maura's experiment sought truth; it was careful and defined by pre-set boundaries and controls. Jane's was a messy grappling for answers without a safety net and Maura was afraid she was the one who'd end up falling. _She could not let this happen._ Jane's grip lessened a little at her friend's tone, which only served to flatten her long fingers against Maura's lower abdomen. If she curved her hips only slightly it would be like an invitation. _God, _how she wanted those strong fingers to keep moving. She held herself desperately still, begging her body not to betray her.

"Well," Jane tried again, her voice croaking. "_Assuming_ that-"

"How is that any better?" Maura cried, sitting up straight, knocking Jane's hand away. "I don't guess, Jane! I don't assume. I don't deal in _what ifs! _You know me better than that, and yet here you are, just-"

"_Okay!" _Jane hissed in a stage whisper, as if to talk out loud would make what was happening real._ "_I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I wasn't trying to…oh fuck," her voice was resigned. "Can we just drop it, please? Let's just chalk it up to a misunderstanding."

Maura stiffened. If she left Jane's house now like she wanted to, it would turn this into a fight, into a _thing,_ and she wasn't sure their friendship was up for that level of processing at the moment. She lay back down, keeping very still, refusing to let the sudden hot sting in her eyes turn to tears and willing her pounding heart to quiet. She wished her body hadn't sprung so painfully attention at such a slight touch from the other woman; it was almost humiliating the way every part of her was screaming out for more contact. Why the hell did she think sleeping over in Jane's bed would be such a good idea?

In the darkness beside her, Jane seemed frozen. She seemed to be holding her breath.

"Jane, it's okay," she said softly, trying to find a way to breach the gap between her methodology and Jane's, but the detective remained silent, and then far too quickly to be realistic, feigned sleep.

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><p>After a terrible night's sleep, Maura woke up barely containing her irritation as Jane decided to plead complete memory loss as to the continued fact of Maura's mere presence, let alone her own conflicting behaviour. They sniped at each other under the cover of friendly teasing, but Maura found herself on a short fuse.<p>

Jane alternated between acting as though she was actually going to have to sleep with a pile of strange women at Maura's behest instead of just show up and interview them, and complaining at Jorge's unabated interest.

"Ugh he's so _nice, _god…" she kept shoving Maura, her playful attempt at physical contact making her both smile despite herself and squirm at the same time.

"Maybe that's what you need," she countered. "Someone loving," she gazed at her friend, "and supportive?"

"Like a hamster?" Jane scoffed, and Maura jerked away from her and up off the bed.

"Oh Jane," she turned her back to hide her frustration.

"What?" the detective bordered on belligerent. "What you think of as a great guy, is an average woman," she proclaimed, ignoring Maura's eye-roll in response. "I mean, if I wanted someone to walk the dog with me and talk about my feelings, I'd be gay!"

She knew Jane was smarting from what must have felt like rejection, but the detective's digs still stung. If she hadn't been so angry at Jane's passive aggressive method of punishing her, she'd have happily pushed her down hard into the pillows with her own body and shown her exactly how far off her _talking about my feelings_ scenario of their imaginary relationship would be. Right at that moment Maura was done with worrying about Jane's feelings at the expense of her own. It would be so very satisfying to shut her up as thoroughly as she knew she could, and yet right now she just _liked_ Jane too little to do so.

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><p>The day dragged out and Maura found herself increasingly anxious about the plan she'd help set in motion. Jane was so raw right now, between the pressure of rejecting yet another male romantic prospect, her aborted attempt at seducing her female best friend and a large audience ready to watch her play gay; was it really wise to be sending her into a dangerous undercover mission like this? There was a murderer out there for starters, not to mention Maura's growing fear that a woman who looked and swaggered like Jane Rizzoli suddenly appearing unescorted in a lesbian bar was asking for a riot, or at the very least, all manner of potential trouble. Despite the fact that she herself would be present throughout, she still felt the experiment slipping further out of her control.<p>

To make matters worse, Jane was refusing all her advice and suggestions as they made their preparations for the evening ahead. Usually Jane took her professional word seriously in the course of an investigation and yet this time around she acted as though being Chief Medical Examiner of the Boston Police Department meant nothing at all in terms of Maura's knowledge of how to catch a murderer. She kept pulling the whole _we're homicide detectives Maura, we know how to do undercover assignments_ card, but when she rejected Maura's fashion advice, her temper snapped.

Her only satisfaction came when Jane countered her impassioned argument for fashion's place amongst the fine arts with a snarky and yet completely innocent proclamation that she couldn't _wait_ to see what Maura would be wearing tonight. Maura turned away so the detective wouldn't see her sudden smile. Tonight, the gloves were coming off.


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks for keeping the faith in the story you guys. I do have a plan for it. It won't follow the whole series, good god no...that ain't no trainwreck we're gonna board. **

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><p><strong>In particular this is for feltknickers to preserve her life, and for you much appreciated return readers and kind reviewers from way back when - 825, KateKane, angela v, KWQuiche - and many many others. Thanks for sticking by, it means a lot to me. <strong>

**I'm trying to make up for my twenty year absence. Penance you guys. Let's do this thing.**

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><p>"So…what's Detective Rizzoli's deal?" Missy asked, as she gave Maura the tour of Merch bar. Up until now, Maura had liked the bartender. She was warm and friendly and upfront and while she'd made no bones about the fact that she thought Maura looked extremely attractive in the obscene waitressing outfit - that as the bar's owner Missy had picked out herself - she kept her eyes firmly on Maura's, instead of speaking to her jumped up cleavage like Detective Jameson had as she played the role of coat checker at the door.<p>

Now however, a gleam had entered Missy's eyes that had been absent during her appraisal of Maura's skimpy outfit.

"What do you mean, her deal?" Maura asked, keeping her tone level. Missy shrugged, as she loaded bottled beer into the fridge.

"You know, got a boyfriend…a sneaky girlfriend on the side or what? Woman like that has got to have something interesting going on. What's her story?" the bartender all but licked her lips. Maura frowned.

"Jane's a professional," she replied neutrally. "She lives for the job. It's quite common in high stress careers like homicide for people to remain single, or suffer marriage breakdowns. It can be very difficult to maintain a serious relationship since the hours are phenomenal and the work is often dangerous. Not many people are willing to sign up for that."

"I wouldn't kick her out of bed for anything," Missy grinned. "She's got to be an absolute animal in the sack, don't you think? All that barely contained aggression…fucking wild, ugh. Do you know her well, Dr. Isles?"

"Maura," she corrected distractedly, quickly changing the subject. "I'm sorry…where do you keep the champagne glasses?" She could see she was going to have to keep an eye on this bartender the whole night, trying to keep her away from Jane so she didn't blow the detective's cover. Or something. She sighed. The doors hadn't even opened yet and she was already hard at work.

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><p>About an hour after opening time the bar filled up quite suddenly. Night clubs hadn't been a part of Maura's social life for many years now, but she found herself remembering how much she'd always liked them. The loud music cut communication down from the complex, to the very, very simple. A tilt of the head that signalled interest, a sway of a hip on the dance floor that invited attention, a throat tilted back in laughter that meant <em>I want to kiss you. <em>

Maura floated through it all, finding her night unfolding like one long dance with a series of partners, gently tapping a waist to move a body out of her way as she wielded her drinks tray, leaning subtly around intertwined couples to retrieve their empty glasses. She accepted only a couple of Missy's free cocktails, just enough to soften her movements and allow her hips to sway almost unconsciously to the beat. As the alcohol flowed, the number of women asking her name or telling her she was sexy or slipping her their phone numbers increased. She smiled and flirted back with a practised noncommittal ease. Missy smirked at her as she returned to the bar.

"You're good," she murmured at her in passing. "If this medical examiner thing doesn't work out for you, I'd give you a job in a heartbeat."

Maura laughed, the sound dying in her throat, as Missy suddenly gave her a meaningful head tilt. Jane had arrived. Settling the detective's beer on a tray, she took a deep breath and then turned, game face ready. Jane didn't notice her until Maura was almost toe to toe with her.

"Your table is ready Miss," she smiled widely. Jane did not have Missy's easy control and her eyes dropped immediately to Maura's cleavage. _Bullseye._ The tall detective's voice came out in a squeak. She was already hustling herself out of her long coat.

"Oh my g- _put this on!"_ she ordered. Maura shook her head, refusing Jane's attempts to clothe her.

"No! I'm under cover," she reminded her gleefully, enjoying her own joke. She was barely covered at all. "Follow me," she invited the other woman, leading the way with just a slight extra sway in her hips than necessary. She could hear Jane's voice cracking as she swore to herself all the way to the table. She seated the detective and placed her beer in front of her. Jane grabbed it and drank steadily.

"I'm going to need another one of those," she said flatly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Maura smiled.

"Certainly, ma'am," she replied briskly, feeling Jane's eyes follow her all the way back to the bar. She delivered the second beer neatly then leaned in to murmur in her ear. "Don't drink too much, detective. I'm going to need you sober at the end of the night." Jane's breathing hitched and her eyes snapped up to Maura's in what almost looked like panic; she was wearing a wire and every conversation was being closely monitored. Maura lay her hand on the detective's forearm. "To protect me, Jane," she clarified, "from all these women who want to help rescue me from this terribly uncomfortable outfit."

Jane nodded seriously, not a sharp quip or an eye roll in sight. Maura hid her smile as she moved back through the crowd to serve other customers.

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><p>It was wrong of course, but Maura's enjoyment of other women's attention increased sharply after Jane arrived. She felt aroused by it, by the eyes and occasionally hands on her body and the want in their eyes, knowing as she did that Jane was watching. She lingered for longer, enjoying their ribald jokes and effusive compliments, and made a staggering amount of money in tips. When each of Jane's dates arrived, Maura returned conscientiously to work, eyeing up each woman coolly to assess their level of threat. Jane seemed uniformly tense but entirely uninterested. It drove all the women crazy, as Maura could have predicted, but none of the dates gave her real cause for alarm.<p>

She kept it simple. _Smile, offer each potential killer a drink, then bag their glass as evidence when they were done._ The only movement she made that was totally unscripted and unrecorded, was her artful lean each and every time she approached the table, that looked from a distance as though she were merely eagerly awaiting the other patron's drink order, but really was an excuse to press her well lifted and barely covered breasts into the detective's personal space. No matter what direction she arrived from Jane was fooled into raising her eyes directly to her cleavage, before managing to drag her eyes up to her face. It worked, Maura noted coolly, every, single, time.

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><p>Maura stood in the alleyway behind the club and handed over the tray of bagged up glasses to the crime scene tech, who carefully loaded it into the back of the waiting van, slammed the door and drove away. She lingered a moment longer, enjoying the fresh air and the relative quiet, the thud of the music dulled by the thick concrete walls of the club. The air was mild and the night felt almost tranquil. It was a sad thought that only two nights before, a woman not so different from herself had wandered out of this club to die. Maura shivered.<p>

The music briefly blared again as the back door opened. She turned to see that one of the bar patrons had followed her out. She frowned at herself. It wasn't really safe out here, she realised a little too late. The alleyway was completely deserted and there was, after all, a killer on the loose.

The woman sauntered towards her, backlit by the streetlight.

"New waitress, huh?" she observed. "Pretty sure I haven't seen you here before." Maura swallowed.

"I'm just here for the night," she kept her voice firm. "Just…seeing how I like it." The woman moved closer, causing Maura to take an involuntary step back and then another, as the woman continued her purposeful advance. The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

"And do you?" the bar patron asked her. "Like it?" Maura realised nervously that her back was suddenly against the wall, but the woman kept moving closer.

"Yes," Maura replied carefully. "It's alright. They'll be wondering where I am, though," she edged sideways. "I wouldn't want to get fired," she tried for a chuckle, but it died in her throat as the dark featured woman took a firm hold of her wrist, stopping her.

"Oh, I don't think they'll fire you," she kept her voice low. "Not when you've made so _many _tips," Maura could see the slight scowl on the other woman's face and her heart began to race. She tried to pull away but the woman carefully trapped her against the wall, not really touching her but crowding her own body into Maura's personal space. She was taller and stronger than the doctor and Maura felt quite overpowered all of a sudden.

"Please," her voice came out softer and less convincing than she'd intended it. The woman ignored her, maintaining her grip on her wrist. She leaned her other hand on the brick wall above Maura's head and gazed down at her, her face inches away. The other woman's hot liquor scented breath hit her lips. She was exceptionally attractive, although Maura really wished she wasn't noticing such a thing right now.

"Did you enjoy the outfit too?" the woman asked. "Enjoy shoving your tits in everyone's faces the way you did?" Maura's breath hitched as one strong finger traced its way from her throat and down between her breasts. She should stop this right now, before it got completely out of control. "Great tactic, by the way," the woman continued grimly and Maura could just make out the flash of her dark eyes. "Very distracting. There wasn't a woman in that club that wasn't staring at you, but you knew that, didn't you?"

Maura didn't trust herself to speak as the finger dipped down into her corset, stroking its way along until it hit one traitorously straining nipple. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, but it was ignored, the finger joined by a thumb as it started to squeeze and rub her mercilessly. The concrete wall was hard against her back and the brickwork rough against her bare skin, exposed by the tiny gaps between the strings of the corset. Somehow the woman had manouvered her so Maura's feet were slightly apart and there was a strong, lean thigh resting insinuatingly between Maura's own. Every part of her had come alive. It was wrong, she knew it was. The dark alley, the danger, the roughness of the other woman's movements.

"I-I'm sorry if I…caused any offence," her voice came out meekly. "I was just doing my job." The taller woman's breath hit her lips as she spoke.

"I'm sure," her voice was hard, her thigh pushing in against her even harder until Maura found herself, despite everything, trying incredibly hard not to rock herself against it. It was so confusing there in the dark, so strange and so terribly…erotic. She held in a moan as the the thigh nudged her legs further apart and a strong hand began to stroke her through the fabric of her skirt. The dull contact was excruciating. "Do you think you should be rewarded for doing such a good job?" the woman asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Maura let her head fall back against the wall. The woman's lips were so, so close.

"You could…tip me," she tried, her voice barely a whisper, her body throbbing, tilting her head back, wanting it all. She anticipated how it would feel, that hot angry mouth on hers while her skirt was jerked up around her hips, her legs wrapped around the other woman's waist while those strong fingers pushed inside her; one quick hard, dirty fuck against the brick wall. God it would be _such_ a relief.

"You're right, I could," came the smoky voice, the mouth shifting until she felt the lips brush against her earlobe, making her shiver. "But I think you'd enjoy that a little too much, don't you?" All of a sudden the hands let go of her as the woman's body withdrew. Maura's knees almost collapsed as she slumped against the wall, grasping at it numbly for support. Just before she disappeared back into the club, the woman paused, her hand on the door.

"Don't hang around out here for too long, Maura. You never know who might come after you." She pulled open the door and disappeared into the blaze of colour and noise inside the club. Maura slid down the wall, her heart racing, her thighs molten. She'd thoroughly misjudged things, never expecting undercover Jane to stay so completely in character.

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><p>The next day at work, Detective Rizzoli was back to her usual professional self. She opened doors for Maura, delivered her coffees and generally appeared a little more all round solicitous toward the doctor than she had recently. Maura wondered if that was a Rizzoli version of apologising for her rough treatment the night before. Mid-morning she abruptly disappeared chasing a hunch and returned with a victorious look on her face, sweeping her curls out the way and baring her neck, requesting Maura to swab it for DNA.<p>

"I'm not even going to ask why," Maura refused to give the detective the satisfaction. Jane just grinned like the cat who'd got the cream and even though logically Maura was aware that Jane was only trying to trap a killer, she couldn't help wondering why Jane hadn't just had a drink with the woman like she had the night before. An ache started up in her stomach. She wondered if Jane's neck was the only place traces of another woman's kiss could be found. She ran the swab over Jane's throat where the detective pointed and found her hand was not entirely steady.

"Anywhere else?" she asked, trying and failing to keep the sharpness from her tone. Jane looked up in surprise, her gaze lingering as she tried to read her friend's expression. Maura busied herself packaging the swab.

"Maura, you get this was just work, don't you?"

"It's none of my business, Jane," she replied briskly. Jane caught her wrist and held it, causing Maura's mind to slam right back to the night before against the brick wall. Their eyes met and Jane's voice husked.

"Yes, it is," she said softly. "Or it would be, if there was anything to tell, but there's not. I think Missy was the accomplice. I couldn't rule her out by stealing her glass, not without tipping her off. So I let her kiss me, once, right here," she pointed. "And then I came straight here to you."

Maura's shoulders slumped and she leaned against her desk. "Why are you telling me this?" she asked quietly. Jane's hand still encircled her wrist as if afraid of letting her go.

"Because you have a right to know," she insisted, her eyes shooting around the lab, her voice low to prevent any techs from overhearing. "Maura, I'm sorry," her eyes were pleading. "Sorry about last night, and the night before and for…god, for fucking everything…" she trailed off. "I don't want to be this person anymore," she swallowed, "this person who just hurts you, and then hurts you some more."

Her phone rang, and Jane glanced down at the number impatiently, without letting go of her wrist. Maura noticed the dark circles under Jane's eyes and the tension in her jaw. The detective tugged Maura's hand up towards her mouth, her eyes fluttering closed as she kissed the doctor's fingers then let go, answering her phone, _Rizzoli, _brusquely as she left the lab.

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><p>Finally, she knew how Jane felt. An attractive, available and very interested single man sat next to her on the park bench, chocolates in one hand and flowers on the bench between them, and she was only experiencing a combination of impatience and regret. It wasn't Brock's fault that he'd chosen this evening of all days to surprise her, meeting her on the steps on her way out of work and wanting to whisk her away on a romantic date.<p>

"Brock," she started. "I can't accept these, I'm sorry. It's not working out."

"Oh," was all he said, for the moment, before looking up at the sky contemplatively. "There's someone else isn't there?" She looked at him in surprise, and he grinned. "I mean, I know it's not me, so…" She smiled back.

"No, you're a wonderful man, Brock. But you're right, there is someone else." She swallowed. "And I don't know if she's ever going to feel the same, but until we resolve this it's not fair of me to let anyone else get hurt." She looked up to gauge his reaction. He took her hand and squeezed it.

"Trust me," he said with a sigh. "She feels the same way. I'll tell Jorge to lay off, alright?"

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><p>Brock must have been certain, because at his yoga class the next evening - that he'd insisted they were still welcome at - his friend Jorge seemed quite convinced that Jane and Maura were right on the verge of walking down the aisle together. Jane feigned outrage at the assumption but Maura knew she was faking.<p>

"Just close your eyes and breathe," she advised.

The detective's playful shoving and teasing seemed to have them right back at comfortable square one. It felt good, of course. There was playground taunting and carefully casual touching and lingering eye contact and a lot of laughter. Maura decided that this was where they needed to stay, for the time being. It was where they were at their best, with no complications, no entanglements, nothing starting up that couldn't be followed through. Above everything, after all, Jane was her best friend. There would be no more experiments.

But that night, she couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Jane towering above her, backlit by the dim lights of the alleyway. She stroked herself, the fantasy changing and flickering constantly as she battled for some kind of control. _Jane was on her knees on the cement, groaning, worshipping her with her tongue. Jane was picking her up, pinning her against the wall and thrusting into her over and over with the strap-on she'd been wearing all night, the one that had been making her squirm and fidget through all her dates, until all she could think of was using Maura mercilessly, wordlessly, until she exploded. Nameless faceless women watched on as Jane licked and sucked at her corsetted breasts, her fingers pumping inside her, completely oblivious to the audience, only focussing on making Maura come. Jane looking deep into her eyes as she stroked her, words of love stringing together almost nonsensically, her kiss desperate and heady…_

After days of pent up tension, her orgasm nearly choked her. As she caught her breath and extricated her fingers, Maura screwed her eyes closed hard, trying to avoid the sight of her otherwise empty bed. Jane had been so vividly _there_ only seconds before, and now Maura felt incredibly alone.


	21. Chapter 21

**Especially for Farmor - you madam, are a sweetheart. And to travelbug, YAY, excitement is a huge compliment, thank you! And Feltknickers - aw, possum, ALL OF THE ICECREAM FOR YOU xxx **

**And to everyone that reviewed. This fickie biz is hard sometimes, so thank you for being involved and stuff...it makes this feel like more of a collaboration, or a conversation, or something. Y'know...something shared. [YES I AM A GAY, WHY DO YOU ASK?] Anyway I really appreciate it, you guys, thank you.**

**x**

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><p>Jane ran. Her feet pounded the pavement, the shock reverberating all the way up her spine. She knew she should lighten and lengthen her stride and let her clenched fists relax, but each angry slam of her sneaker felt satisfying. She ran alone, without music, only the racing of her thoughts spurring her on.<p>

Today - in complete contradiction to the marathon training plan set out on the precise excel spreadsheet that Maura had given her - Jane had no end goal, no amount of miles or minutes or hours to achieve. She wasn't even wearing a watch. She had no destination, nothing to run for, or to. Today she was running harder and further than ever before, somehow convinced that if she was only faster and stronger she could finally escape herself.

She slammed down a side street aiming for the grasslands next the the Charles, knowing Maura would kill her if she wrecked her knees before race day. If there was one thing that cut through the red fog in her brain, it was the clear conviction that she did not want to let Maura down. Not again.

She hit the river path, head down, running blind. _Maura,_ her brain repeated on loop. _Do not fail her. Try harder, be stronger._ Her chest burned. Maura had promised her that after a certain pain threshold, the endorphin pay out would be worth it. She just had to push through the burn and then the pain would take care of itself. She only hoped the same rule held for the rest of her life, because at this point the pain was threatening to overwhelm her.

It had caused her pain to empathise so strongly with the grieving widow who'd found and won the beautiful love of her life and then so abruptly lost her, only to find the woman was a weak, selfish killer. It had made her ache with confusion when Maura had suddenly started to flirt with her again - in that devastatingly effective way that only Maura could - while simultaneously trying to push her away onto yet another man. Just the image of Maura's teasing eyes roving all over Jane's body at dinner while _Brock_ was the one kissing and caressing her beautiful friend made the ache turn into a stab. To finally gather up the courage, albeit covertly, to broach the idea that maybe being a lesbian was really what she wanted, only to have it neatly deflected, stung more than she'd cared to admit. And lying awake for hours rigid with fright with what she was about to do, only to have Maura push her away with anger when Jane finally tried to tell her, carefully, anxiously, how she felt in the dark of the night? Well that _lacerated_ her.

Jane angrily swiped at her eyes as she ran, hating herself for not being smart enough to work this one out. There were so many conflicting signals. _What did Maura really want? _The last week had been agonising in its confusion. One minute Maura was gazing at Jane with those incredible bedroom eyes of hers, and the next she was explaining all the reasons Jane should date a ridiculously wet male nurse. The flirty vibe between them had sharply increased all of a sudden until Jane was a mass of thrilled and terrified nerves, only when she'd tentatively tried to follow through on those veiled hints and promises, Maura had shot her down.

Then the very next night while they were undercover at Merch, Maura had turned around and aimed at her with every ounce of seduction she had - in her sparkling eyes, her parted lips, her golden skin, her sex-softened voice against Jane's earlobe, her breasts in her face - and Jane had _died _for her over and over again. But Maura continued on, making her point quite clear by allowing all the other women in the bar to ogle her openly, tease and flirt with her and even place their hands on her body while Jane could not.

She didn't know what had come over her, only that confusion and despair had slammed smack bang into lust and jealousy and when the last suspect had been interviewed and the wire had come off, Jane had caught sight of Maura disappearing out the door behind the bar. She'd followed her, planning to confront her, have it all out, finally, and try not to scream when she asked _what do you WANT from me?! _

Only when she found she was finally alone with Maura in the dark, temporary privacy of the alleyway, and the doctor had looked up at her, a flash of surprise appearing in her eyes, as well as a slight apprehension now the act was all over, something snapped in Jane. She didn't want the act to drop, not yet. Why couldn't she have the same chance all those other women had? Just getting to be an anonymous woman, in a lesbian bar, faced with a beautiful, flirtatious waitress? No complicated friendship, no history, no murderers to catch, just getting to let go and be _normal _for a minute?

She couldn't believe it when Maura had played along, and it was mere seconds before they were pressed together up against the brick wall. Her body in that ridiculous outfit made Jane feel simultaneously insane and more focussed than she'd ever been in her entire life. Finally there was no ambiguity, no Brock or Jorge, no barriers of friendship or professionalism between them, only one hot _waitress_ and one very determined _lesbian, _with nothing but blazing want between them. _She had her hands on Maura's skin, on her breasts, her fingers capturing her nipple_, _then between Maura's legs, stroking only fabric but knowing how she'd feel if she pressed it aside…so so soft, god - Jane had watched her, never stopped watching her - she knew how wet Maura must be after this whole night of fucking foreplay. Maura's eyes kept fluttering closed and then opening again, desire and shock battling across her features, her chest heaving, her body open and vulnerable. God, Jane was going to have her, right there, up against the wall. She could barely wait to really feel her. _

But then Maura trembled, and the question of whether it was desire or fear jolted Jane out of her lusty haze, just long enough to make her breath catch. This wasn't some anonymous encounter, this was _Maura. _Suddenly Jane didn't want another no-strings _fuck_ with her, she wanted it all. Or, more accurately, for the first time ever, she wanted to be capable of wanting it all. She wanted to be worthy of it, to heal, to become stronger until she was someone who could stand up and be more than that, be Maura's _partner_. Maura deserved that.

But did she want it...? Maura's eyes had fluttered open again and Jane could read nothing there but lust. It would be so _Maura_ to think she could cure the tension in their relationship with sex. She was so successful at divorcing sex from love, seeing it as purely a fun quirk of biology, a simple physiological function that humans were programmed to fulfil. A cold cure, for god's sake. Jane had managed not to collapse and cry into her friend's bare shoulder, garnering her last reserves of energy to play out the role she'd started, growling out a tough line and fleeing.

Now she collapsed on a park bench, gazing out at the grey water, pain gnawing between her shoulder blades as her legs trembled, trying to regain her breath. She'd been so sure in that moment that while the desire was obviously mutual, what they wanted to do with it was completely at odds. She _loved_ Maura, ergo, she couldn't just sleep with her. Maura loved her back, she knew that, but she'd happily sleep with Jane for pragmatic reasons. It wouldn't mean anything more than exactly what it was - sex with your best friend. The very idea of being nothing more than a recreational activity to Maura made Jane want to die.

It hadn't been until the following day in the lab, when Maura had been less than pleased at Jane's clever entrapment of her suspect via the means of kissing, that Jane had started to doubt her understanding of Maura's motives. Instead of smirking back at Jane the way she'd imagined, Maura looked downright devastated. The sharp tone of her voice, an octave higher than normal had reminded her of Maura's angry rejection that night in her bed. At the time Jane had been so tense and flustered, all she'd heard was the part where Maura had said no. Now the words came back clearer and she realised maybe Maura hadn't said no at all. The tone had been upset, but the words had simply stated, _not like this. _Not unsure like this, not half-assed like this. No _maybes, _no _what-ifs. _Jane's heart had started yammering in her throat. If she was right, if Maura too, wanted more…_god_, she could barely breathe. She needed to put this right, but then Frost had called her back to work and the moment had escaped her.

And now, the friendly vibe was back. Maura didn't flirt with her anymore, not really. They were simply friends, with just the mildest hint of spice, so covered with layers of platonic cautiousness she was almost convinced that it was gone. Jane had been hurt by that too, but now as the promised endorphins flooded her system, she realised that it was for the best. If she was going to change and grow and face her demons and heal herself, to become a whole new kind of person - the kind who could confidently sweep Maura Isles off her feet - well that was going to take time. _About a thousand years should do it. _And in the meantime, Jane was going to stop acting like a lust-crazed asshole. She'd seen the bruising on Maura's wrist from where she'd caught her, before pinning her aggressively up against the wall. She was lucky the doctor was even speaking to her. She absolutely did not want to misuse her friend like that, ever again. Good god, she needed to wipe it from her memory, _the vision of Maura's rapid breathing and tilted throat bared to her, right after she'd hit the wall._ Jane couldn't stop shaking her head. She needed to prove to Maura once and for all, that despite her fuck-ups, she loved her and respected her above all others. _She was her best friend_. Running a marathon for her was only the beginning.


End file.
